Draco & Hermione Behind The Scenes
by jw114019
Summary: DRACO/HERMIONE. Small Draco and Hermione moments, snuck into the actual cadence of the Harry Potter books. True "behind the scenes" vignettes between these two incredibly smart, evenly matched magical beings. I tried not to take too many liberties, but I did take a few for the sake of my plot.
1. Chapter 1

**This story is called _Behind The Scenes_. This is my first time publishing on this platform, so I anticipate having to edit for readability and chapter cadence. **

**SUMMER BEFORE YEAR 1**

11-year-old Hermione Granger traced a finger along the spines of countless books. _Magick and Its Elemental Properties; A History of Prophecy; The Anthology of Ancient Bloodlines; Advanced Runic Translation; A Beginner's Guide to Potions. _

She smiled to herself. This is where she belonged. She'd never thought it possible before, back when she was teased for being a "freak," trying to block out the whispers of family friends and neighbors when something unexpected happened around her. She couldn't explain the strange events. The glasses that shattered when she was upset, the dead flowers that suddenly bloomed under her fingertips, the way the kids who teased her would end up tripped and bruised, even though she never touched them. After any of these events, which grew more frequent as she got older, her parents would study her uneasily, and Hermione would sometimes cry herself to sleep when she heard them whispering outside her door. She knew she was different. But now – now she realized she wasn't the only one.

She pulled out _Advanced Metaphysical Magick _and settled into a plush armchair to read. She had already gotten the other supplies she needed for her first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, so she figured she had at least an hour of free time. Her parents were waiting for her in London, expecting her back on the other side of the brick wall sometime that afternoon. They were apprehensive about her going to a special school for magic, but secretly relieved that there was a reason their daughter was…_different_. They were also glad that she would be learning how to control her abilities. Her mother had tired of replacing their best crystal stemware.

Hermione was halfway through the first chapter when she heard an imperious "Excuse me." Startled, she looked up. An incredibly pale, blonde-haired family was staring down at her. The boy appeared to be Hermione's age. They were dressed in what had to be very fine robes, and immediately Hermione felt shabby in her Muggle sundress and cardigan. Her mother had bought it for her especially, wanting her to look her best when she ventured into the wizarding world for the first time. "First impressions are important, Hermione," her father always said.

She instinctively tried to smooth down her wild curls.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"You're quite young to be alone. Where are your parents?" the woman inquired. Her pale blue eyes were as frozen as her voice.

"They're in Muggle London."

The man curled his lip into a sneer, although he didn't look at all surprised.

"You're Muggleborn?" the boy asked disdainfully.

A familiar weight settled into her stomach. The feeling of not truly belonging. She curled the book into her chest, as if it was a kind of shield.

"_Advanced Metaphysical Magick," _the boy's father intoned, reading the cover. "A bit beyond the abilities of an 11-year-old, I should think."

"I'm a fast learner," Hermione defended.

He cocked his head to the side, appraising her.

"What's your name?" the boy asked.

"Hermione," she said, wondering why they were still talking to her. She just wanted to be left alone. "Who are you?"

"I'm Draco Malfoy. I'll be starting at Hogwarts too. Which House do you think you'll be in?"

"Um, I don't know," Hermione said, feeling dreadfully inadequate. She had no idea what the boy was talking about.

"I'll be in Slytherin," he said proudly. "Everyone in our family are Slytherins."

She looked at the little aristocratic group nervously. _Well, I hope I'm not in Slytherin. _She didn't want to ask how many Houses there were, or what their defining traits were. These people were already making her feel rather stupid. There was nothing worse than feeling stupid, in Hermione's opinion.

She sighed heavily. "Is there something you need?"

The man cocked an eyebrow at her.

"Tired of us already?" he asked, looking rather amused.

She blushed. "Look, I know how this works. If you're going to insult me, just get it over with so I can go back to reading."

The elegant blonde woman pressed her lips together. "Come Draco. Let's get your books."

"Yes Mother," he said. He nodded at Hermione briefly. "See you at school."

"I suppose," Hermione said. The boy's parents gave her a last curious look before turning away.

**_Malfoy Family POV_**

Lucius Malfoy dropped galleons on the counter, watching with a bored expression as a wizened old man wrapped Draco's books and handed them to him with a deferential bow.

"Mr. Malfoy, Mrs. Malfoy. Always a pleasure," he said.

Lucius didn't deign to acknowledge him. Once outside the shop, Narcissa glanced down at the First Year supply list. "Hmm, Draco, we have all your Potions items, but you'll need some new robes."

Draco rolled his eyes. He liked to look good – he was a Malfoy, after all – but he hated clothes shopping.

"I need to stop in at Borgin and Burke's," Lucius reminded her.

"Of course, dear. We'll go right after Madame Malkin's."

_**Hermione POV**_

Hermione was panting. Never having been athletic, she struggled with her purchases. The potions shopkeeper had shrunk her cauldron and other supplies down to a smaller size, but it was the books that were the problem. They had been shrunk as well, but she'd bought about five more than she actually needed for First Year lessons, and it was taking its toll. She turned a corner without realizing where she was going. Shifting her bags to the other arm, she looked up. And froze. She was in a darkened alley. A filthy-looking wizard eyed her up and down, grinning with blackened teeth. A chill ran all the way down her spine. She turned around to go back the way she came, but found herself staring at a brick wall. _What the….?_

Fear struck her deep and hard.

She stayed as close to the wall as she could, sidling around the creepy wizard without making eye contact.

"Lost, dearie?" A woman with matted hair and only one eye leered at her.

Hermione felt her eyes start to water. Pulling out her brand new wand, she gripped it with sweaty fingers, deciding there was nothing to do but push forward. She searched desperately for a kind face, but could find none. A group of what appeared to be goblins wandered by, grinning at her with teeth sharp as knives.

She wished she hadn't worn a dress. She'd felt so pretty at the time, but now she just felt exposed.

A hand gripped her upper arm and spun her around. She shrieked and struggled, tears slipping down her cheeks as she realized that she was no match for a full-grown man. It was the wizard with the blackened teeth. His putrid breath washed over her as wrenched her closer. "You'll make a pretty pet, won't you girl?"

Suddenly the man yelped and was blasted backwards, landing in a crumpled heap before her. Hermione whipped around, chest heaving.

The blonde-haired family was behind her. Lucius Malfoy had his wand outstretched before him.

She couldn't remember when she'd been so happy to see anyone.

Before she knew it, she was racing toward the tall wizard, wrapping her arms around his legs and practically sobbing with relief.

Shocked, Lucius looked down at her awkwardly, finally grabbing her shoulders to push her gently away. She winced when his hand came into contact with her bruised upper arm, cheeks still wet with tears.

He frowned and let go immediately.

"Here, let me see," the woman said, her voice sounding much gentler than it had in the bookstore.

Hermione stood still as Narcissa pushed the cardigan down to reveal her upper arm, the bright red handprint already starting to bruise.

A wave of her wand and the pain was gone. Hermione blinked gratefully, brushing the back of her hand across her cheeks to wipe away her tears.

The boy pushed in front of his parents. "What in Merlin's name are you doing here?" he said angrily, eyes flashing. "Don't you know how dangerous this place is?! Especially for someone like you!"

"Someone like me?"

"A Mud-"

"That's enough, Draco," his father said. "This is why you shouldn't come to Diagon Alley alone," he added to Hermione.

Hermione flushed. "I wasn't paying attention to where I was going. I looked down for just minute, and then…" she swallowed, fighting more tears.

Lucius Malfoy sighed. "Come on then. We'll get you back to Muggle London. Have you done all your shopping?"

Hermione nodded, hefting her too-heavy bags.

"Where – where are we?" she asked.

"Knockturn Alley."

With a wave of his wand, he made her bags feather-light and indicated that she should stand beside him. Flanked on either side by Lucius and Narcissa, with Draco directly behind, she finally let herself relax. She noticed as they walked that everyone avoided eye contact with them, moving to the side in waves as the Malfoys walked right through them, heads held proud and high. Some even bowed, although their facial expressions never changed.

_Who is this family? _Hermione wondered.

When they reached the brick wall at the front of Diagon Alley that led to Muggle London, Hermione turned around awkwardly. "I just – well – thank you," she whispered, looking at each of them. "I can tell you don't like _my kind_, but still…" she paused, taking a deep breath. "I'll never forget it."

Narcissa looked as though she wanted to hug her, but didn't. Lucius clasped his hands behind his back, and for a moment his pale grey eyes softened into smoke instead of ice.

"Your parents, they're waiting for you?" Draco asked.

Hermione nodded.

"Where?" Lucius demanded.

"At a café we frequent. It's just across the street," she said, wondering why he sounded angry. "I'll be fine," she added, hoping to placate him.

"As fine as you were in Knockturn Alley?" he glared.

She flushed yet again.

"I promise. It's only a few yards away."

"Very well," Lucius said. He tapped his wand against the brick and Hermione stepped through the portal. She turned back to thank the Malfoys once more, but they were already gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**HOGWARTS, YEAR 1: FALL**

Hermione rushed to the abandoned bathroom, wiping her cheeks with the sleeve of her robes as she went. _Stupid Ron. Why was he always so thoughtless? _She had hoped that things would be different when she got to Hogwarts. She thought she could finally put the years of bullying to rest and make some real friends. Instead, she found she was ostracized by her own House in addition to everyone else. The Malfoy boy she met in Diagon Alley barely glanced at her, surrounded as he always was by his fellow Slytherins. When he did meet her eyes, it was usually to give her a superior smirk.

She knew why people didn't like her. She was a know-it-all, but she couldn't help it. She loved to learn, and furthermore she wanted to prove all those stupid Purebloods, like Draco sodding Malfoy, wrong. She wanted to belong in the wizarding world.

Locking herself in a stall, she sank down and sobbed. She was so lonely. _Just one friend, _she pleaded silently. _I just want one friend._

The bathroom door slammed open, followed by booming footsteps. Her heart stilled as she peeked under the stall to see two grotesquely huge feet and the blood-stained tip of a heavy club. A troll! The shuddering footfalls stopped. There was a loud sniffing, and then her stall door was ripped off its hinges. She shrieked and dove through the troll's thick legs before it rounded on her. Hermione thought she was done for, when in ran Harry and Ron.

A few distractions, a particularly well-placed "Wingardium Leviosa" and one lie later, Hermione finally got her wish: she had friends.

From then on, she went everywhere with Harry and Ron. Their school marks improved, and Hermione no longer cried in empty bathrooms. It was a win-win. Her relationship with Draco Malfoy changed as well. Instead of smirking, he now glared.

**WINTER**

He spoke to her once that year, when he came upon her at the back of the library.

"Granger," she heard someone say. Her head snapped up from her book.

She blinked at Malfoy suspiciously, glancing around for his cronies.

"Where are your friends?"

"As if Crabbe and Goyle would ever set foot in a library," he scoffed, rolling his eyes.

She breathed a sigh of relief. She really didn't like those brutes.

"What do you want, Malfoy? Come to congratulate yourself on nearly getting me expelled?"

"Don't sneak illegally traded dragons out of the castle at midnight, and you won't have to worry about expulsion!"

She flushed. "It's not like it was my idea."

"Of course it wasn't, Granger. But you keep hanging about with imbeciles like Weasley and Potter."

She sputtered. "Harry is NOT an imbecile, and Ron, well…Ron's very good at chess," she said defensively.

He smirked.

"Stop that," she said. "And you have some nerve calling _my _friends imbeciles when you hang out with the likes of Crabbe and Goyle."

He had no retort for that.

"Look, I didn't come here to debate which one of us has dumber friends, but you should consider connecting yourself to people other than Potty and the Weasel," Draco said. "Maybe some Ravenclaws. They share your penchant for being an obnoxious know-it-all."

"I don't know if you noticed, Malfoy, but I don't exactly have a fan club. I can't throw away my only friends. Besides, Gryffindors are nothing if not loyal." She crossed her arms and stared at him defiantly.

"Fine," he spat. "It's your funeral, Granger. Don't think I'd care if something happened to you anyway. One less Muggle polluting the magical world."

He stalked away before Hermione could respond. She huffed, trying to get back into her book but failing. _Ugh. What a git._

She gathered her things, hoping that Ron and Harry were in the common room so they could play a game or two of Exploding Snap and distract her from thoughts of accusatory grey eyes.

**SPRING**

The Great Hall was decked out in silver and green to celebrate Slytherin winning the House Cup. Chatter sounded around Hermione, fading to curious whispers as Dumbledore stood up.

"While I applaud the Slytherins for an admirable performance this year, there are still a few House points to be awarded." Snape went rigid, as did his students. "To Mr. Harry Potter, who has shown extraordinary courage in defending the Sorcerer's Stone, I award 60 points." The Slytherins booed and hissed in shock. "To Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, for demonstrating strategic skill and great wisdom in the face of immeasurable danger – I award 50 points each." Hermione smiled nervously as people clapped around her.

"Finally, I award 10 points to Neville Longbottom. It takes great courage to stand with our friends, and even more to stand up to them." The Great Hall exploded in noise as the green banners were replaced with red and gold. Gryffindor had done it! They'd won the House Cup, and Hermione had helped. She felt slightly bad for the Slytherins (some of whom actually got up and left) but decided that they wouldn't even blink if _they _had been the ones to take the House Cup out from under the Gryffindors.

She glanced around the Great Hall contentedly, trying to memorize every magical feature before they went home for the summer. Her eyes landed on the Slytherin table, and her smile fell. Draco Malfoy was staring at her, a storm swirling in his eyes. _He's probably just livid that Gryffindor won the Cup. _She sent him a confused glare before Harry drew her attention back to the feast.


	3. Chapter 3

**SUMMER BEFORE YEAR 2**

Second Year was about to start. Hermione finally got to see her friends, and her parents had agreed to come with her to do her school shopping in Diagon Alley (looking nervous, but that was to be expected). Fortunately, the Weasleys were more than happy to introduce them to the magical world.

She had just finished having Gilderoy Lockhart sign her books when she saw Harry, Ron and Ginny speaking to none other than Draco and Lucius Malfoy. _Great. _She pushed through the crowd, reaching the group just in time to hear Lucius berate Harry for using Voldemort's name.

"Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself," she said fiercely.

Draco looked her up and down from his position beside her, not knowing whether to be horrified or amused at the way she'd addressed his father.

Lucius raised a perfectly arched brow.

"Ah. Miss Granger. Always a pleasure," he said. Hermione felt her face grow warm as everyone looked confusedly at her. She'd never told them about meeting the Malfoys last year. "And those are your – Muggle – parents, I presume?" He nodded to where Mr. Granger, Mrs. Granger and Molly Weasley waited in line to pay for Hermione's books.

"Mmmmm," he sneered. "Well, at least you're not alone this year, even if you happen to be in the company of some rather disgraceful wizards." His cold grey eyes raked over the Weasleys.

"Come along Draco," he said imperiously. "Let's find a shop less…polluted." Draco brushed past Hermione, raising a pale brow at her before turning to Harry and Ron.

"See you at school." He made it sound like a threat.

As soon as they left Harry rounded on Hermione. "What was that?"

"What?" Hermione asked.

"You know what. Why was _Lucius Malfoy_ addressing you as though you'd already met?"

"I did meet him. In this bookshop, last year," she said.

Harry frowned. "Why didn't you say anything?"

She rolled her eyes. "It's not like we were friends in the beginning of the year. Plus, it was an incident I wanted to forget."

"Why?" Arthur demanded. "What did Lucius do to you? I'll give him a piece of my mind, by Merlin I will!"

"No," Hermione said quickly. "I got lost somehow and ended up in Knockturn Alley. A man attacked me, and the Malfoys saved me."

"They _saved _you?!" Ron exclaimed. "I don't believe it."

Mr. Weasley looked just as shocked.

"Well it's true," Hermione said defensively. "The whole lot of them might be pretentious Slytherin gits, but they aren't entirely evil."

_**Malfoy POV**_

"Ugh, that Granger. What a jumped-up little…"

"Draco, your mother and I have had to hear you complain about her all summer. Kindly spare me now. Anyway, I would think you'd be ashamed that a girl with no magical family beat you in every exam."

Draco flushed. "It's not – she's always sucking up to the professors, it's not fair! And you know Dumbledore favors Gryffindors."

Lucius ignored him.

"Come, I need to take a few things to Borgin."

"The Ministry's doing raids, then?" Draco asked.

"So it would seem."

They slipped into Knockturn Alley and away.

**HOGWARTS, YEAR 2: FALL**

Draco swaggered onto the Quidditch pitch, the Slytherin Quidditch team fanning out around him, each clutching a brand new Nimbus 2001. He smirked at the Gryffindor team. Finally! He'd have one up on Potter. He lifted his chin even higher, watching Hermione make her way down the stands out of the corner of one eye.

Oliver Wood touched down, stomping toward the Slytherins.

"Flint," he said tightly. "What are you doing here?"

"What does it look like, Wood? We have practice."

"No, you don't! We're scheduled for this time. What's that Malfoy whelp doing with the Slytherin Quidditch team, anyway? And are those…are those…?"

"He's our new Seeker," said Marcus Flint. "And yes, these are brand new Nimbus 2001s. You'll be eating our dust this season, Wood."

"Jealous, Potter?" Malfoy taunted. "These brooms make yours look like kindling."

Hermione stepped forward. "At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to _buy _their way in. They got in on pure talent," she said matter-of-factly, crossing her arms over her chest and pursing her lips.

Draco's pride deflated. The Gryffindor team was laughing, and the Slytherins behind him shifted uneasily. He thought he even heard one or two of them snicker. Flushing a bright pink, he retaliated. "Nobody asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood." There was a collective gasp. Granger's eyes narrowed dangerously, and he could see that they were shiny with unshed tears. Immediately a knot formed in his stomach.

But then Weasley was pointing his wand at his chest and screaming "Slugulus Eructo!" It backfired spectacularly, and Draco laughed with the rest of the Slytherins as his red-haired nemesis hunched over, vomiting slugs.

"Come on, let's get him to Hagrid's," Hermione said, giving Draco a glare full of so much venom he felt ill. There was a finality to that look.

He almost wished he could take the word back. _But no. She _is_ a Mudblood, and there's no point pretending differently._ Purebloods and Muggleborns simply did not mix.

_**Hermione POV**_

"_Filthy little Mudblood." _ Those three words hit her with all the force of a Bludger. She knew Malfoy was prejudiced against Muggleborns, but he'd never called her "Mudblood" before. Fighting back tears, she was almost grateful when Ron cast that hex, if only to serve as a distraction and keep her from crying in earnest.

Before she and Harry took Ron to Hagrid's, she gave Malfoy a last burning glare. _This is it, _she told him silently. _We're done. _Any childish ideas she'd previously held about him being "not that bad" were clearly unfounded. _It's better this way. _Slytherin Purebloods and Gryffindor Muggleborns simply did not mix.

**WINTER**

Fear waited in every corner, clung to every shadow, stole through every corridor. Slytherin's monster had been unleashed, and everyone except the Slytherins were terrified. Hermione was furiously trying to finish the Polyjuice Potion so they could lay the "Malfoy is the Heir of Slytherin" rumors to rest. As obnoxious as he was, she was almost positive that he wasn't the one who opened the Chamber of Secrets. _Well, unless it was by accident, _she conceded. Harry and Ron were quite sure he was the ultimate evil in Slytherin House, but she didn't think he was murderous enough to unleash Slytherin's monster on the castle. He couldn't really want her dead, could he?

She shook her head and continued stirring the Polyjuice Potion. _Almost ready now. _And then they would know for sure.

**LATE WINTER**

Ron and Harry came running into the Hospital Wing where Hermione sat on the edge of a bed, covered in hair and utterly miserable.

She perked up when she saw them.

"Well?" she asked eagerly. "Did you find out who it is?"

"No," Harry said. "It's not Malfoy, we know that much." A knot in Hermione's stomach released.

"You should've heard what the little rat said about a Muggleborn dying!"

"Ron…" Harry warned.

But he was already plowing ahead.

"'I hope it's Granger,' that's what he said!" Ron fumed. "I about decked 'im."

The knot that had unfurled in Hermoine's stomach wound itself tight again.

"He…he said that?" she said, tearing up all over again.

"Oy, it's just Malfoy! He's a git, isn't he?" Ron said, surprised that she was so upset.

Harry patted her shoulder cautiously.

"He's not worth it, Hermione."

"You're right of course." She let out a little laugh. "I'll just be so happy to be rid of all this hair so I can get out of here and hex his lily-white arse!"

**SPRING**

Hermione poured feverishly over a large tome on magical creatures in the Restricted Section of the library, searching for something – anything – that could indicate what Slytherin's monster could be. She was sure that if it wasn't discovered soon another Muggleborn would die. Perhaps it would even be her.

She growled in frustration. Suddenly a piece of parchment hovered into her peripheral. She grabbed it, looking around in confusion, but could see no one. It was a torn-out page on Basilisks. _Of the many fearsome beasts and monsters that roam our land, there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk, known also as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may reach gigantic size, and live many hundreds of years, is born from a chicken's egg, hatched beneath a toad. Its methods of killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deadly and venomous fangs, the Basilisk has a murderous stare, and all who are fixed with the beam of its eye shall suffer instant death. Spiders flee before the Basilisk, for it is their mortal enemy, and the Basilisk flees only from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it._

And beneath this, in an elegant hand, was written a single word_ – __**Pipes**_**.**

"That's it!" she exclaimed. "Oh Merlin, I have to tell Harry and Ron." She folded the page small and leapt up, cursing herself when she realized that it was already dark. She looked left and right nervously, pulling out her little compact mirror. Her footsteps in the deserted halls sounded uncommonly loud. Approaching a corner, she held the mirror out in front of her, angling it so that she could see around. The last thing she remembered was a huge pair of cruel yellow eyes.

**LATE SPRING**

Hermione blinked slowly, wincing against the harsh overhead lights. She tried to push herself off the bed, but found her every muscle resisting.

"Stay still, dear," Madame Pomfrey bustled over and laid her gently back down.

"What happened?" she asked.

"You were attacked! By Slytherin's monster, no less. You and young Mr. Creevey are exceedingly lucky you didn't die. When the Malfoy boy carried you in you were so pale I feared you were already gone. Thank goodness for Professor Sprout's Mandrakes. You'll feel better in no time, I'll wager."

"Did you say that _Malfoy_ brought me to the Hospital Wing? _Draco Malfoy_?"

"Aye. Quite frantic he was, too. I had to kick him out, he was hovering so much."

She carefully lifted Hermione's head and fluffed her pillows.

"All right, dear? You look a bit bewildered," Madame Pomfrey frowned. "I'll get you a tonic."

"I'm fine, thanks. Just shocked. I mean, Malfoy _hates _me."

Madame Pomfrey lifted an eyebrow. "Does he now?" She turned away, but before she disappeared into her store room she said: "I have healed many Slytherins over the years, Miss Granger, and I can tell you that most aren't nearly as bad as they pretend to be. Some are, of course – but that's just human nature, isn't it?"


	4. Chapter 4

**HOGWARTS, YEAR 3: FALL**

Hermione glanced up from her book as the train carried her to Scotland for a third year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Harry and Ron were involved in a raucous game of Exploding Snap. She was about to put down her book and join in when there was a sudden chill, and a feeling of dread washed over her.

"What's going on?" Ron said.

They looked at each other fearfully. The lights flickered and went out. Ice formed on every surface. Screams sounded throughout the train. Suddenly, the door was thrown open and Draco practically fell into Hermione's lap. Crabbe and Goyle huddled close to the window near Ron. Hermione hugged Malfoy to her, the cold receding as he melted into her arms. His warm exhale moved across her ear, making her whole body shiver in pleasure. His scent was an intoxicating blend of rich spice, leather and old books.

A skeletal hand, very faintly illuminated by the grey light pouring through the iced-over window, reached into their carriage. The sense of despair increased almost unbearably, and then the Dementors were gone as quickly as they'd come. There was an immediate shift felt throughout the train – the bone-chilling cold disappeared, and hopelessness was no longer thick upon the air.

Draco pushed himself carefully away from Hermione, one hand lingering on her arm before he, Crabbe and Goyle left.

The lights came back on and Hermione noticed the figure collapsed on the floor of their carriage. "Harry!" she yelled. She and Ron knelt next to him, relieved when his eyes opened. He blinked in confusion.

"Oh Harry!" Hermione said, flinging her arms around him.

"You scared us, mate," Ron said.

Harry hung his head. "I feel horrible," he shuddered. "What were those things?"

"Dementors," Hermione said, rifling through her bag. "Here, eat this." She thrust a chocolate frog at him.

"I'm not hungry," he said.

"Eat it, Harry. You'll feel better, I promise," Hermione insisted, giving one to Ron and opening another for herself.

Grumbling, Harry tore the wrapper and bit off a little piece. Warmth immediately flooded him.

"That does help. Thanks Hermione!"

"Mmmf," agreed Ron, stuffing the whole frog in his mouth and searching her bag for more.

"Did – did either of you faint?" Harry asked. "Did Malfoy?"

"Er, no," Hermione said. She gave him a sympathetic look. "I'll research more on Dementors when we're back at the castle, I promise Harry. I'm sure it's a very common reaction."

**LATE FALL**

Draco rolled on the ground, clutching his bleeding arm.

"Hagrid, he has to go to the Hospital Wing!" Hermione said.

"Right," Hagrid said, scooping the boy into his massive arms as Hermione ran to get the gate.

Draco saw her concern through a haze of pain. _She cares_, he thought. The agony in his arm lessened ever so slightly.

**EARLY SPRING**

The rest of the year resulted in an escalation of anger between Malfoy and Harry, Ron and Hermione. Hermione was not only livid that Draco had taken to making fun of Harry for his extreme reaction to the Dementors, but that he had also leveraged his father to get Buckbeak executed.

It all came to a head after Hermione quit Divination. She, Harry and Ron had just been to visit a heartbroken Hagrid. They paused at the top of the hill, Hermione's eyes filling with tears as she heard the *swish* *thwack* of the executioner's axe. They were walking dejectedly back to the castle when she spotted Malfoy snickering with Crabbe and Goyle.

Something in her snapped.

"You foul, LOATHSOME little cockroach!" she shouted, marching toward him in a cloud of fury. Draco backed up.

She whipped out her wand, holding it an inch from his nose, and his eyes widened.

"Hermione! He's not worth it," Ron said.

She lowered her wand, turning away from Malfoy's fearful face.

Relieved, Malfoy smirked from Crabbe to Goyle, chuckling mildly. That did it. Hermione whipped around and: *SLAP!* She connected with Malfoy's cheek, sending him staggering. Immediately a bright handprint bloomed on his shocked face. Malfoy looked both humiliated and pained before running back to the castle, Crabbe and Goyle in tow.

"Merlin, Hermione! That was amazing!" Ron whooped.

"That felt good," she said sheepishly. "Come on, let's get back to the castle."

"What's gotten _into _her?" Harry asked Ron quietly.

"I don't know, mate," Ron said. "But whatever it is, I like it!"

**END OF YEAR**

"GRANGER!" Malfoy marched up to her as she walked toward the loo. They were headed back to London on the Hogwarts Express.

She sighed. "What, Malfoy?"

He scowled. "I know you're behind the disappearance of that murderous bloody chicken."

"Murderous? You tried to have poor Buckbeak executed simply because you were too stupid to listen to Hagrid's instructions!"

He flushed.

"That's not the – I didn't – damn it, Granger! It tried to kill me! So how in Salazar's name did you do it?"

She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "Magic," she said archly.

"Very funny," he said, narrowing his eyes at her. "Wait a minute… Snape mentioned that McGonagall gave you a Time Turner so you could take extra classes. You misused it, didn't you? That's illegal, you know."

"Going to turn me in?"

"Maybe I will!" he spat. "My father…"

"Oh come off it, Malfoy! 'My father this', 'My father that'…we get it, your father's a rich bastard and can make people do whatever he wants."

"How dare you disrespect my family?!" he hissed.

"How dare you disrespect mine? Just because they're Muggles, you think they aren't worthy of respect."

"They aren't!"

She fought the urge to slap him again.

"Do you even hear yourself? I know you've been brainwashed by your Death Eater daddy, but seriously Malfoy, you're intelligent enough. Learn how to think for yourself."

She pushed roughly past him.

"Hey! I'm not done," he said.

"_I _am."


	5. Chapter 5

**SUMMER BEFORE YEAR 4**

Hermione could barely contain her excitement. She was at the biggest Quidditch match in the wizarding world, and she was with her two best friends.

She'd done a great job avoiding the Malfoys through the entire event – almost forgetting they were there – except when Draco made fun of Ron and Harry for being seduced by the antics of the Veelas (and then she'd sort of agreed with him). He and his father had the sense to bring along earplugs and copies of the Daily Prophet, effectively avoiding the embarrassment that Harry, Ron and even Mr. Weasley were currently experiencing.

After the game, the teams filed through to greet the international Ministers of Magic and other high-ranking officials. Hermione marveled at the Bulgarian Seeker, nose still dripping with blood. "He was very brave, wasn't he?" she said to Harry and Ron.

"He's the best!" Ron gushed.

Draco Malfoy was also admiring Krum, craning his neck to get a better look at him. He'd had his poster since he was 12. _I wonder if he'll sign my ticket stub?_

"Not so eager, Draco, you're exposing yourself," Lucius drawled.

"Oh hush, Lucius, let the boy enjoy himself," Narcissa admonished.

Lucius rolled his eyes but yielded to his wife, as he always did.

**LATER THAT EVENING**

Darkness fell on the enormous camp. People grew rowdier as the night wore on, aided by firewhiskey.

Hermione yawned. "Well, I think I'll turn in," she said, leaving the glow of the bonfire where the Weasleys and Harry were gathered 'round.

Screams suddenly tore through the air. Hermione looked up to behold the Dark Mark, illuminating the treetops just beyond camp with a sickly green glow.

People were running and Apparating, grabbing whatever they could carry in their haste to get away. Mr. Weasley leapt up. "Kids, stay here with Molly."

But Harry, Ron and Hermione were already racing toward the trees. They stumbled through the forest, following the sight of the terrified Muggles, spinning slowly in the air.

Ron tripped on a root and went sprawling.

"Typical," a snide voice said. "When you're not inserting your foot in your mouth you're tripping over it." Malfoy emerged from behind a bush, hair bright against the shadows. "Come to see the show?"

Harry held his wand out. "I'm surprised you're not hiding under your father's cloak, Malfoy. But wait – he's one of the cowards in masks, isn't he?"

Malfoy's face twisted in fury. "Don't call my father a coward, Potter."

"Gets a kick out of torturing innocent Muggles, does he? Your entire family is despicable. Tell me, when are _you_ going to be the one in a mask?"

"SHUT UP POTTER! You don't know anything!" He breathed heavily, trying to control himself. Finally he composed his face into its usual sneering stoicism.

"As entertaining as this little chat has been, Potter, I'm surprised you feel you have the time." Malfoy nodded at Hermione.

"What're you on about, Malfoy?" Ron asked.

"It's obvious, isn't it? They're after Muggles_. _Do you really think it's safe for _her _to be here right now? Unless you'd like to show off your knickers to the whole camp," he said to Hermione. "Merlin knows we could use the laugh."

Harry and Ron glanced at Hermione nervously.

"WELL?" Malfoy spat. "Are you deaf or just stupid? Get your precious Mudblood out of here."

"Come on," Harry mumbled, shooting a final glare at Malfoy.

_**Draco POV**_

Draco watched the Muggles spin in the air with a horrified fascination. His father wasn't part of this, was he?

To be honest, Draco didn't know. He couldn't imagine that he'd take pleasure in tormenting an innocent family. _Even if they ARE Muggles_. He wanted to believe that for all his prejudices, Lucius Malfoy was better than that. That the Malfoys were better than that.

Nausea swept through him and he turned away from the spectacle, relieved to see Aurors, along with Mr. Weasley, march toward the group of Death Eaters. Most of the masked figures started Apparating or running away into the dark of the trees, leaving the Muggle family's saviors to set about erasing their memories.

He felt a sudden surge of jealousy. Ron Weasley never had to wonder if his father was the one hiding behind a mask, torturing people.

Draco loved his father, revered him, even – but lately he'd begun to doubt whether he agreed with everything he said and did. Especially when he considered Hermione. Did he really believe that she didn't belong in the wizarding world? Mudblood or not, she was the brightest witch at Hogwarts, and he couldn't exactly say that she was inferior to _all _Purebloods. Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy immediately sprang to mind.

He fervently hoped that Potter and Weasley had taken his advice and gotten her as far from camp as possible.

_**Hermione POV**_

Hermione moved swiftly through the woods, hoping that Ron and Harry were near her. The darkness closed around them, lit only by the sickly green of the Dark Mark. Shouts and screams created an atmosphere of chaos.

Before she knew it, Hermione was lost. Instead of escaping the woods she had somehow plunged further into them. "Harry…Ron," she called, spinning around desperately.

They were nowhere to be found. Heart pounding, she held her wand out in front of her.

She was about to call out again when a hand reached around to clasp over her mouth. She let out a muffled scream.

"Shh, quiet girl."

Lucius Malfoy pushed his black hood down and stared fiercely at her.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing out here?" he hissed. "Why is it that you and your idiot friends always seem to find yourselves in the wrong place at the wrong time?"

"I – we don't –" she started.

"Come," he cut her off roughly. "The others will be along any minute."

He kept a tight grip on his arm as he steered her out of the woods.

"Ow," she grumbled. "Is this really necessary?"

"If any other Death Eaters see us they'll simply assume I've taken you hostage, so yes, it is necessary." He snorted. "Honestly Miss Granger. You're supposed to be smart." However, his grip loosened slightly.

He walked her back to the outskirts of the woods, making sure she was within eyeshot of the Weasley's tent. "Now go – and be sure to Portkey away as soon as possible, understand?"

She nodded.

"Good. Oh, and Miss Granger…don't think I'm unaware of who saved that Hippogriff from execution last year."

She blushed, hoping that he couldn't see it in the darkness.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she said archly.

He rolled his eyes. "Mmm. You Gryffindors are all such terrible liars. Good night, Miss Granger. We really do have to stop meeting like this."

**LATER THAT NIGHT**

"Hermione, there you are!" Harry and Ron exclaimed, running to her as soon as she neared the tent. "I'm so sorry! I thought you were right behind us, and when we turned around you were gone."

"I'm fine. It was dark is all. I just got turned around."

"Did anything happen? You didn't see any Death Eaters, did you?" Ron asked.

"No," she said, feeling slightly guilty for lying to her friends. She didn't feel like launching into an explanation. She was exhausted, and she also remembered her promise to Lucius. "Ron, where does your dad keep his Portkeys? We need to get back."

"Good call. I've about had it with camping," Ron said, dipping into the tent to retrieve the bag of Portkeys.

When they reached the Burrow, Hermione was ready to collapse. Her mind was clouded with confusion, and she felt the beginnings of a headache. _Why did Lucius Malfoy save me AGAIN? _she wondered angrily. Not that she wasn't grateful, but she was really starting to resent owing the Malfoys. If there was one family in all the Wizarding world that she did not want to be indebted to, it was those poncy Purebloods.

**HOGWARTS, YEAR 4: FALL**

Hermione startled as Draco waved a Daily Prophet in Ron's face while they were walking back from dinner. She grimaced when saw the headline: _Ministry Employee Fails to Fix Muggle Toilets, _complete with a soaking wet Arthur Weasley attempting to defend himself from a transfigured plunger, which was biting at him like an enraged dog.

"Just when I think your family can't sink any lower, you prove me wrong," Draco taunted.

Ron flushed a deep red and stood up.

Hermione and Harry grabbed his arms. "Don't listen to him, Ron," Hermione begged. "He's just trying to get a rise out of you."

"It's a wonder your mother hasn't left him out of shame," Draco continued. "Maybe she knows no one else would have her."

Ron went purple at this.

"You know _your _mother, Malfoy?" Harry said. "Does she always look like she's got a bad smell under her nose, or was that just because you were with her?"

"DON'T TALK ABOUT MY MOTHER LIKE THAT POTTER," Draco yelled, whipping out his wand.

Harry gave him a rude gesture and turned away.

"Scoreng-" Malfoy started to curse Harry, but there was a flash of light and he was replaced by a pure white ferret.

"You. Cowardly. Piece. Of. Malfoy. Filth." Professor Moody punctuated each word with a jerk of his wand as the ferret bounced up and down in place, squeaking in distress. "Cursing someone while their back is turned! I'll teach you curse someone when their back is turned," Moody muttered furiously.

"Professor, he'll be hurt!" Hermione tried to cut in amidst the raucous laughter of students. A crowd had gathered now.

Professor McGonagall pushed through them to see what the commotion was. "Alastor!" she exclaimed. "Is that – is that a _student?!_"

"Not to worry, Minerva," Moody said, "Just doing a little interactive teaching."

"Finitus Revelio!" McGonagall yelled, and the ferret transformed back into Draco Malfoy, whose pale face was bright red. Tears of pain and embarrassment flooded his eyes before he shoved himself up and stumbled away.

"Professor Moody, we _never _use Transfiguration as a punishment!"

Now that it was over, Harry, Ron and Hermione continued to Gryffindor Tower, Ron stopping every so often to clutch his sides and laugh hysterically.

"Ahhahaha, that was the best thing I've ever seen," he said between guffaws. "'Malfoy the Amazing Bouncing Ferret'…Merlin, it'll go down in Hogwarts history."

"Yes, well, I'm glad McGonagall put a stop to it," Hermione frowned. "He could have been seriously hurt."

"Oh who cares, Hermione?" Ron said. "Can't you just let me enjoy this?"

"Well, alright," she smiled. "He did look quite natural as a ferret."

"He was born to it," Harry said with a laugh.

**WINTER**

"You know, Granger, it's unbecoming to lie."

"Excuse me, Malfoy?"

"There's a rumor going 'round that you have a date to the Yule Ball."

"And…?"

"And it's obviously made up. What's the matter, felt left out because no one would take you?"

She rolled her eyes and went back to her essay.

"As a matter of fact, Malfoy, I do have a date."

He snorted. "I doubt that very much. Who is it then?"

"None of your business," she said archly. "Why do you care, anyway?"

"I don't," he said hurriedly. "I'm just surprised to find Gryffindor's Golden Girl caught in a blatant lie, that's all. You're jeopardizing your Prefect chances, Granger."

"Whatever Malfoy. Don't you have a Quidditch game to lose or something?"

"First of all, I am a GREAT Quidditch player," he growled.

"Of course you are. Just not as great as Harry," she smirked.

"I - I - rgggh. I hate you Granger."

"I hate you too Malfoy." She gave him a cheerful wave as he stormed out of the library.

**YULE BALL**

Hermione smoothed her silken dress robes down as she and Viktor Krum waited for the doors of the Great Hall to open.

"Get in position everyone," Miss McGonagall said, "we're about to start."

Viktor offered Hermione his arm and gave her a smile. "You look beautiful Hermy-own," he whispered.

She smiled and straightened her back, shaking off her nervousness. _I don't care what anyone thinks. Tonight I'm going to enjoy myself._

The doors swung open and a pool of light flooded over her and Viktor. They began to walk to the center of the dance floor, Hermione gracing the rows of students to the right and left with a bright, newly straightened smile.

"Oy, have you seen Hermione?" Ron asked Harry, craning his neck to glance around. "Maybe she was too sad to come since she didn't have a date."

"Um, Ron?"

"What Harry?"

"She's right there…" he pointed toward Viktor Krum, who was leading a very pretty girl with sleek tresses down the line.

"Where? I don't see – _Hermione?!"_ Ron yelped.

Further on, Draco was watching the procession with barely disguised boredom.

His eyes landed on the girl next to Krum, and his jaw went slack. Hermione must have noticed his expression, because as she passed him she raised an eyebrow at him as if to say, '_See? I told you I had a date.'_

Beside him, Pansy's hand tightened on his arm. "Is that – is that – the Mudblood? With VIKTOR KRUM?!"

Draco watched Hermione glide through the first dance. While Krum was stiff and awkward, Hermione was light, graceful and (as much as he hated to admit it) absolutely lovely.

He barely noticed when they opened the dance floor to other couples.

"Drakie? Drakie? DRACO!"

"What Pansy?"

"Let's have a dance," she begged, hugging his arm to her. Draco sighed. "Sure, ok." If there was one thing his mother taught him, it was that you do not ignore your date. _Even if she's the most annoying person in the room. _He noticed one of the Parvati twins gesturing angrily at Ron, who was glowering at the dance floor with crossed arms. _Well, aside from Weaselbee._

He guided Pansy with practiced ease, having been forced to take dance lessons early in life. He tried to pay attention to her, but couldn't stop his eyes from wandering to Granger as she laughed in Krum's arms. His stomach twisted.

He let go a breath of relief when they finally went to sit down and Krum left her side, presumably to get drinks. He led Pansy back to their table across the hall, where Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott and Crabbe and Goyle were waiting.

"Decent ball," Blaise remarked. "I have to say, Granger cleans up well, doesn't she?"

Draco glared.

"What are you talking about Blaise?" Pansy sniffed. "She's still the same disgusting, bushy-haired know-it-all."

"Careful Pansy, one might think you were jealous," Theo said.

"I am NOT jealous of a Mudblood!"

"Well, maybe you should be," Blaise smirked, winking at Draco.

Jaw set, Draco stood up. "I'm going to get more butterbeer."

"Ooh, get me a pumpkin juice," Pansy said.

He was walking back to the table when he heard Granger explode at Weasley.

"HOW DARE YOU RON! For your information, Viktor hasn't asked me ONE QUESTION about Harry or the next task, not ONE…"

"Viktor? He hasn't told you to call him 'Vicky' yet?"

Hermione's face went red.

_Weasley's in for it now, _Draco thought happily, taking a sip of his butterbeer.

"Er, Ron, I think we should go," Harry cut in.

"YES YOU SHOULD. Get out of my sight, both of you!" Hermione yelled. Tears were streaming down her face now, and she swiped at them furiously. "You've ruined everything Ron." She turned and ran out of the Great Hall, past a bewildered Krum and Draco, who was finding the situation much less funny. He really hated it when women cried. If his mother got even remotely teary, he melted.

"Draco! Draco! What are you doing? Come sit down!" Pansy called.

He went back to his table and handed Pansy the pumpkin juice before moving away again.

"Where are you going?" she pouted.

"Loo," he said.

_**Hermione POV**_

Hermione walked through the castle, near-blinded by tears and fighting the urge to hex every happy couple she saw. Eventually she made it to the Third Floor, which was blessedly empty. She hoisted herself up into a window alcove and slipped off her heels. Looking out over the snow sparkling under the stars, she felt herself unwind a little. The tears were drying on her cheeks. _Ugh, Ron. _He was always so thoughtless. And how _dare _he think that she would ever betray Harry for Viktor? "Stupid Ron," she said aloud.

"Granger?" A voice called from down the corridor. She stiffened and fumbled for her wand, hoping to cast a quick Illusion Charm to hide herself. She had just begun to whisper the words when Malfoy's white-blonde head appeared in her peripheral. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut.

"Not seeing something doesn't make it go away," Malfoy said.

"Well at least I won't have to look at your ugly face."

"Harsh Granger. And woefully inaccurate. We both know I'm irresistibly attractive."

She actually started laughing at this, throwing her head back against the wall. It took her a moment to calm down.

Malfoy scowled. "Are you done?"

She sighed, wiping her eyes. "Thank you Malfoy. I really needed that tonight. Now," she continued. "I suppose you came all this way to make fun of me for leaving the ball in tears. Go ahead then."

When he didn't say anything, she finally turned her head to look at him fully.

_Is he actually nervous? _She wondered. His eyes were downcast, and there appeared to be a flush to his pale cheeks.

"Well?" she asked.

"I just – I guess, I don't know – areyouok?" he mumbled.

"What was that? I couldn't quite catch the last bit."

He sighed. "Never mind. So, what happened? Did Krum finally get a good look at you and decide to dance with someone less bookish and boring?" He almost cringed as he said it. Even so, his voice lacked venom.

Hermione cocked her head. He still wouldn't meet her eyes.

"Well, you nailed it Malfoy. That's exactly what happened."

His head snapped up. "What?" he asked stupidly.

"I said: that's exactly what happened. Almost to the letter. Except he also mentioned that I was a pathetic know-it-all. Go figure. Anyway, you should probably get back and tell all the Slytherins so you can have a good laugh at the Mudblood's expense." Malfoy flinched at her use of the word. _What is she doing?_

"What's the matter, Malfoy? It's not like you haven't used that word before."

Feeling more than a little confused, Draco turned to leave, hesitating before saying: "By the way, you shouldn't cry over the likes of Weasley. You're better than him."

It was her turn to stare in shock.

"Excuse me?" she asked.

"You heard me, Granger. And tell Weasley that next time, he should ask you to the ball himself, and save everyone a dragon's hoard of drama."

With that, he was gone. Hermione listened as his footsteps faded away and pondered her evening. It definitely hadn't turned out as planned, but she felt strangely…happy. And since when did Malfoy think a Muggleborn was better than anyone?

_**Draco POV**_

"Long loo break," Blaise and Theo greeted Draco when he got back to the Yule Ball.

"Do you have a point?" Draco drawled. "I just needed some air."

"First of all, your date has danced with not one, but two boys from Beauxbatons since you left, and secondly, when does going out for air entail running after crying Gryffindors?" Blaise asked.

Draco's face froze.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh come off it, mate," Theo said. "We've known you since you were 3. It's obvious you're attracted to Granger."

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," Draco said coldly.

"Is it?" Blaise's eyes were narrowed.

"Yes," Draco insisted. "Including the time Theo said that Crabbe might pass Arithmancy."

Blaise snorted.

"Look," Theo said. "You're our mate. We're not trying to attack you for this, but you need to be careful." He looked around furtively before saying: "I know you're not fooled by this ridiculous display of school unity. A storm is brewing, and if any of the – wrong sort – find out that you have feelings for a Mudblood, especially one who happens to be best friends with Harry Potter, it will go badly for you."

"You think I don't know that?" Draco spat. "Nothing is going on between me and Granger."

"Maybe not," said Blaise, "but that doesn't change the fact that you like her. It's dangerous. Not just for you, but for her. And as Potter's best friend, I think we can agree that she has enough trouble in her life."

Draco opened his mouth, but then sighed in defeat. As much as he hated to admit it, Blaise and Theo were right.

**EARLY SPRING**

With the second task approaching, Hermione was once again back to worrying about Harry. It was all-consuming, this worry. She was smart enough to realize that whoever put Harry's name in that goblet did not want him to survive, and she was terrified that the next task would be his last. She badgered him constantly about the golden egg, and was even tempted to steal it from him and figure out the clue herself, cheating be damned.

Harry was finally given a break in the form of Cedric Diggory, and Hermione and Ron were called into Dumbledore's office to be briefed on their role in the second task.

A week later, Hermione waited to be put into a magical sleep, trying to summon her Gryffindor courage. She hated the idea of being helpless. She was also nervous about Viktor's feelings for her. _I barely know him, _she thought. _How can I possibly be the person that matters most to him?_

She didn't have time to stress over it further – Dumbledore pointed his wand and she drifted away.

_**Draco POV**_

Sandwiched between Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson, Draco watched the second task unfold. It was freezing in the stands, but he'd had the sense to cast a warming charm. Unfortunately, an icy sweat was forming under his thick woolen robes regardless. He shivered. _How in the hell did Granger get dragged into this mess, _he wondered furiously. Bloody Krum. Draco had torn up his poster of his former favorite Quidditch star after the Yule Ball, but was now wishing he'd kept a few scraps to set on fire. And why in Salazar's name did Krum think that the bushy-haired know-it-all was the one thing that mattered most to him? It was insane! No one falls in love that fast. _And with GRANGER of all people?! _She was insufferable. Her hair was ridiculous – well, ok, it looked good at the Yule Ball, but that was the only time it was even remotely presentable. Her eyes were an entirely boring shade of brown, and she was always weighed down with an obscene amount of books, like some kind of homeless librarian.

"Drakie, are you ok?" Pansy asked. "You're sweating."

"I'm fine," he said tightly. "Just cast the warming charm too strong."

"Really?" Blaise frowned. "Feels fine to me."

"Well bully for you then," Draco sneered.

Blaise raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

_Where is that fool Krum? _ Draco wondered, scanning the water anxiously. _Dumbledore wouldn't let them just die down there, would he? _But he had no problem with putting Potter in danger year after year, so maybe he would…

He pushed his hat up and wiped the sweat from his brow.

Merlin, he was acting ridiculous. _Why do I even care? _

He didn't. He didn't care. He would just miss making fun of the little Mudblood if she died, that was all.

Yes, that had to be it.

Ripples suddenly appeared on the surface of the lake, and Draco stood up with the rest of the spectators, grateful that his height allowed him a better view. Krum burst out of the water, carrying a very limp, very wet Granger in his arms.

Draco almost collapsed back into the stands. Instead, he took a few steadying breaths, rejoicing in the sight of the girl, shivering and coughing on the wooden platform. She was alive. A shard of anger twisted in his heart as he watched Krum tenderly wrap a blanket around her shoulders. _Idiot, _he thought. _She wouldn't BE wet and cold if you hadn't put her in this position in the first place!_ He snorted derisively.

"What's wrong Drakie?"

"Nothing Pansy. And I hate it when you call me that."

Blaise gave him a knowing look. Draco quickly schooled his face into a mask of indifference.

**LATE SPRING**

Hermione tore up the Daily Prophet in a fury. _Oooh, that horrid Skeeter woman! _

"I'll make her pay, I swear…"

"Talking to yourself now?" Malfoy smirked, leaning against a bookshelf.

"Leave me alone, ferret. I'm really not in the mood."

His smirk faded when she used the now-familiar insult. Merlin, he was never going to live that down. "Shut up, Granger."

"Hit a sore spot, did I?" It was her turn to smirk. "Why don't you bounce yourself out of here before I help you remember that incident in vivid detail?"

He scowled, but stood his ground. "I just came to congratulate you on your romantic _conquests_. Weasley, Potter and Krum – my my, Granger. You're getting quite the reputation."

Hermione cheeks burned. "You know as well as I do that it's all lies from that awful Rita Skeeter."

"Yes, she does seem to be _bugging _you lately, doesn't she?" he said with emphasis. "Being a right _pest_, one could say."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "What are you on about?"

He strolled away with a knowing smirk.

"Well, nice chatting Granger. Next time you see Skeeter, tell her to buzz off, won't you?"

"Oh Merlin!" Hermione exclaimed, realization finally dawning on her. _So THAT'S how she's been getting all those 'inside scoops'." _It made sense. And once again, she had a Malfoy to thank for helping her. _They really are the strangest family. _She shook her head. No matter. She had better things to think about – like exacting revenge from that pestilent little dung beetle.


	6. Chapter 6

**HOGWARTS, YEAR 5: SPRING**

The jig was up. Hermione raced through the darkened halls, panting hard. She wondered briefly who told Umbridge about the D.A. _We'll know soon enough, _she thought. The secrecy spell she'd used on the members was no joke. Rounding a corner, she smacked hard into someone wearing a shiny Inquisitorial Squad badge.

The person grabbed her to keep her from falling back onto the stone floor. "I might've known," Draco drawled.

"Malfoy," she said wearily. _Of course. It has to be him._

"Let me guess, this little group was all your idea?"

She drew herself up to her full (albeit short) height. "You know as well as I do that Umbridge is absolutely worthless," she said matter-of-factly. "How else are we supposed to learn how to defend ourselves?"

Those grey eyes bored into her. He was still holding her upper arms.

She squirmed a little under the intensity of his gaze.

"What is it Malfoy? You're creeping me out."

He released her suddenly.

"Go," he snapped.

"What?" she blinked at him.

"I said, _go _Granger. Hurry, before I change my mind."

Backing up slowly, she kept her eyes locked on him. Her brow was furrowed in confusion.

Unfortunately, Crabbe chose this moment to emerge from the shadows, clutching Ron's robes tightly.

"Hehehe, good on 'ye, Draco. Knew you'd get her."

Draco's face tightened into its familiar sneering mask as he pointed his wand at Hermione. "Come on. Umbridge's office, now."

She walked back over to him, resigned.

"I'll take her, Drake," Crabbe said. "So you don't have to get Mudblood germs on you." He reached out and grabbed her upper arm hard, causing Hermione to wince.

"NO," Draco said forcefully. "I've got her. Just deal with Weasley."

"A'right," Crabbe grunted, hauling Ron off to Umbridge's office, Draco and Hermione close behind.

She marched beside Draco, sneaking occasional glances at him. His face was stony. She could feel tension radiating off him, but his hold on her arm (below where Crabbe had grabbed her) was gentle.

When they reached Umbridge's office she saw that Harry was already there.

"Ah, just in time!" Umbridge said brightly. "We're off to the Headmaster's office. The Minister of Magic is here to personally handle this matter. We'll have to send a special train to take you back to London in honor of your expulsion."

"Expulsion?!" Draco exclaimed.

"Yes, Draco dear." She looked from Harry to Hermione to Ron gleefully. "These students have been _very _naughty, haven't you my darlings? And I simply cannot abide rule-breakers. Now! On you get."

Malfoy marched Hermione like a soldier toward Dumbledore's office. She stole another glance at his face, but it was still shuttered, his eyes ice-grey.

She'd seen him angry many times before, but this was different. _He's furious._

When they reached Dumbledore's office they found Minister of Magic Fudge and Head Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt flanking Dumbledore. Fudge looked confused, Kingsley stoic, and Dumbledore calm (maybe even slightly amused). Marietta Edgecomb was crying into her sweater.

"Ah, the party's arrived," Dumbledore said happily. "Let's get started, shall we? What's all this hub-bub about?"

"You know very well what this is about, Dumbledore," said Fudge. "These students have been holding secret _illegal_ meetings, in direct violation of the rule stating explicitly that there should be absolutely NO student gatherings within Hogwarts without the Ministry's approval." The feather in Fudge's wizarding cap quivered. "These three students…" he continued.

"One student," Hermione tried to step forward, but Malfoy still held fast to her arm. She glared at him, only to find him glaring back with twice the venom. But there was more than anger in his eyes – there was desperation.

She took a deep breath and turned back to face the Minister. "Dumbledore's Army was my idea."

Dumbledore started laughing. "Hermione, thank you for attempting to protect me, but the proof is in the pudding. Or shall I say the name? _Dumbledore's Army, _you see."

Fudge sputtered. "You-you-you WERE trying to take over as Minister of Magic! I knew it!"

"Indeed. And I coerced these poor students into helping me. Even going so far as to threaten to withhold Prefect statuses if they refused."

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Dumbledore held out a hand.

"Thank you, Harry, but I'll take it from here."

Umbridge looked crestfallen. "But Fudge – Potter, Weasley and Miss Granger should at least face expulsion, after all…"

"For what, exactly?" asked Dumbledore. "Tonight was supposed to be our very first meeting, and it was obviously interrupted."

"Very first…NO," Umbridge said, looking almost manic as she yanked Marietta out of the corner. "Tell them, girl. Just like you told me. Go ahead."

But Marietta merely shook her head, eyes bright with tears.

"Come on, it won't activate the curse further," Umbridge wheedled.

"Yes it will," Hermione muttered, causing Malfoy to raise an eyebrow.

Umbridge grabbed Marietta and began shaking her before Kingsley put a stop to it.

"Well. Well," Umbridge said, brushing a sweaty curl from her face. "That doesn't change the fact that they've been using THESE to communicate all year." She triumphantly held up a gold coin. "Miss Edgecomb told me that the numbers on these galleons would change to reveal the date and time of their covert meetings."

"A Protean charm? Highly, highly advanced magic," Kingsley said, taking the coin curiously. "The same charm He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named uses to call his Death Eaters to him."

"Indeed it is," Dumbledore said. "Do you really think a _student _could have successfully performed that charm?"

Fudge frowned. "I suppose not. Malfoy, Crabbe, escort these students back to Gryffindor House. Marietta, Hospital Wing. Perhaps Ms. Pomfrey has something to take care of those spots. You three watch yourselves now," he warned, glaring especially hard at Harry and Hermione.

Malfoy released a heavy breath and swiftly steered Hermione toward the door.

"Are you going to wait for Crabbe?" Hermione asked, rolling her eyes when Malfoy didn't answer.

Draco's long legs were no match for hers, and she found herself half-running behind him. "Malfoy! MALFOY." She yanked her arm out of his hand and refused to go another step. Leaning against the wall, she tried to catch her breath. "What in Godric's name are you doing? I'm not sprinting the length of the castle at your whim."

In the distance, she could hear Crabbe, Harry and Ron. The muscles in Malfoy's jaw worked. "Merlin, why are you so upset?!" she asked.

"I'm not," he said shortly.

"Arggh," she growled in frustration, grabbing his sleeve and dragging him into an empty classroom. She waited until she heard Crabbe's thick footfalls pass, and then rounded on Malfoy.

"Will you stop?" she asked.

"Stop what, Granger?"

"Lying to me! I know it's a Slytherin trait, but please Malfoy. I've known you since we were 11."

She crossed her arms and waited for him to speak. A storm was brewing in his pale eyes, and then it broke.

"YOU ALMOST GOT YOURSELF EXPELLED!" he yelled.

Swiftly, Hermione drew her wand and whispered a sound-proofing spell.

Malfoy's chest was heaving and his pale skin was splotched with red. "WHAT WERE YOU THINKING? And by Hecate, why would you confess to starting the stupid club in the first place?"

Hermione blinked at him. "Because it _was_ my idea."

"You bloody Gryffindors," Malfoy spat. "You don't have to be so honest all the damn time! For Merlin's sake." He raked his hand through his hair, mussing the white-blond strands. Hermione had a sudden urge to laugh.

"What's so funny, Granger?"

"Nothing, Malfoy. Your hair looks cute like that, is all."

He sputtered. "It's not-I don't-don't try to change the subject!"

"I'm not." Hermione yawned, suddenly weary beyond reason. _What a night. _If not for Dumbledore's quick thinking, she could be packing her bags to leave Hogwarts right now. _A truly horrifying thought. _She hoped Dumbledore would be ok. She felt terribly guilty that he was in trouble with the Ministry. _What if they remove him as Headmaster? _Oh well. There was nothing they could do now. And knowing Dumbledore, he would find a way to make things work to his advantage, even if he was no longer at Hogwarts.

"Come on," Malfoy sighed. "I'll get you back to your dormitory."

He walked slower now, matching her pace. She was grateful.

"Malfoy?"

"What, Granger?"

"Why don't you want me to be expelled? I thought you didn't believe Muggleborns should go to magical schools."

He was quiet for a moment.

"I don't know what I believe anymore." Malfoy was frowning, as though struggling to understand his feelings. Then he shook his head, and his mouth settled into its usual smirk.

"Anyway, the real reason is that I would miss making fun of you. You're extraordinarily easy to rile, Granger. It's quite entertaining."

She snorted. "I'm sure."

They reached the portrait of the Fat Lady and Hermione turned around to face the pale Slytherin. "Thanks," she said simply. He nodded and turned to go. "Oh and Malfoy – for the record, I would miss you too." He looked at her sharply, eyes widening in surprise.

Then she whispered the password and disappeared through the portrait hole.

**LATE SPRING**

"But Harry, it doesn't make sense!" Hermione exclaimed. "Why would Voldemort be keeping Sirius in the Ministry of Magic, of all places? How would he have even gotten in there? It's packed with witches and wizards, not to mention Aurors! Anyway, you aren't even supposed to be having these visions. The Occlumency…"

"SCREW THE LESSONS, HERMIONE! THEY'RE USELESS! I KNOW WHAT I SAW!" Harry's face was red. "And with or without you, I'm going to the Ministry."

Hermione held her hands up. "Alright, I'm sorry," she soothed. "Harry, I'll go with you to rescue Sirius. Ron and I would follow you anywhere, you know that. All I'm asking is that we don't rush in blind. It could be a trap. Let's just…let's just check to see if Sirius is home, first, ok?"

"And how do we propose we do that?" he snapped.

"Umbridge's office," she said. "It's the only fireplace that isn't being traced."

He glared at her for a moment before nodding. "Fine. Let's make it quick."

_**Later That Evening, Umbridge's Office**_

_Damn it all to Hecate, _thought Hermione. They were trapped in Umbridge's office after trying unsuccessfully to contact Sirius. _Perhaps he really was kidnapped. _If that was so, they needed to escape Umbridge as soon as possible. Unfortunately, Umbridge and her Inquisitorial Squad had them outnumbered and disarmed. The Headmistress was talking to herself now, gesturing wildly with her wand. Once again, Malfoy was holding Hermione's upper arm, looking even more stony-faced than he had when he'd caught her outside the Room of Requirement.

"Ah, yes! Torture. The ministry will understand…I had no choice…"

Hermione's eyes widened and a tremor ran through her. She felt Malfoy's hand tighten on her arm and he subtly pulled her into him, away from Umbridge. Hermione could feel his heart beat rapidly against her back. Then she felt a slim weight settle into the pocket of her robes. _My wand. _Malfoy had slipped it back to her.

"But it's illegal," Draco said, making sure to keep his features hard and indifferent. _Just like Father taught me._

"Whose side are you on, Draco dear?" Umbridge asked.

"Yours, obviously," he said carefully. "It's just that Hogwarts doesn't want to lose you, Professor. You'll be fired for sure if…"

"Your concern is sweet, Draco, but I can handle Fudge. The Ministry will understand. After all, these are special circumstances."

"NO," Hermione sobbed, going limp in Malfoy's arms. "Harry, it's no use. We have to tell them the truth." Draco fought the urge to pull her into his chest. She covered her face with her hands. _Interesting, I can't see any tears, _Draco thought. Could she be faking it? He felt a small surge of pride. Perhaps she was finally taking his advice and learning to lie like a Slytherin.

"Hermione, don't do it!" Harry pleaded.

"I'm sorry, Harry." She gasped in between sobs. "We were working on something for Dumbledore. A special project."

"What special project, where is it?" Umbridge looked around eagerly, as though expecting to find it hidden among her cat pictures.

"Not _here, _obviously," Hermione said, not bothering to stop the know-it-all lilt from creeping back into her voice. "We hid it."

Harry was no longer protesting. Ron's mouth was slack, eyes glazed as he struggled to understand what Hermione was on about. Draco rolled his eyes. _Come on, you fools. Play along._

"Well spit it out, girl! We haven't got all day!" Umbridge said.

"I'm not telling you anything in front of _THEM_," Hermione gestured behind her at Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle. "They'll take it and use it to their own advantage."

Umbridge gave Malfoy a suspicious once-over. "Hmm, perhaps you're right. Draco, Crabbe, Goyle, you stay with Ms. Weasley and Longbottom. Make sure they don't get out of hand."

"Wait, what?" Draco asked. "But Professor, what if you need…"

"What I _need_ is for you to do as you're told, young man. I can handle three measly students, I assure you. Now," she said, dragging Hermione away from Malfoy. "Show me where this 'special project' is."

Hermione barely had time to spare Malfoy an apologetic glance before they were out of the office and away.

_**Later That Evening, Ministry of Magic**_

Bellatrix shot a jet of light at Ginny and Hermione as they ran. "NO!" Lucius blocked her spell with a silent Protego. "We are here for the prophecy, nothing more!"

Hermione used the time to stun Bellatrix, running as she went. "Come on!" she said to Ginny.

Fifteen minutes later, she found herself backed into a shelf by a hooded figure. She shot a spell at him, but it was countered. Fear filled her, and then he stepped into a little light cast by a wall torch. She let out a breath of relief when she saw the white-blonde hair. She didn't want to analyze what it meant that the sight of a Malfoy made her feel relief instead of fear.

Lucius stepped closer to her. "Why didn't that fool Potter realize the Dark Lord was luring him to the Ministry?" he hissed.

"I tried to tell him, but he wouldn't listen…"

He snorted and lowered his wand. "Take your friends and get out of here," he said. "_Quickly._ The Dark Lord is already here."

A spell struck Lucius in the back and he crumpled into Hermione. She felt for his pulse frantically, glad to find a strong heartbeat.

"Hermione?" Harry said tightly. "Are you ok?"

She let Lucius droop gently to the floor.

"I'm fine, Harry. Let's just go."

Then she noticed the tears streaming down his face.

"Harry what's wrong?" Fear clutched her. "Where's Ron?"

"Ron's ok, he's been taken to St. Mungo's. It's – it's Sirius."

"Oh Harry," Hermione gasped, tears filling her own eyes.

"It's my fault, Hermione."

"Don't say that."

"Why not? It's true," he said tightly. "If I had just listened to you and Dumbledore, none of this would have happened. Ron may not even fully recover, and I've lost my godfather."

"First of all, Dumbledore should have told you that Voldemort was going to try something like this," Hermione said bitterly. "Dumbledore ALWAYS does this. He withholds information and lets you go gallivanting off to be killed. It's barbaric."

"Don't blame him," Harry said.

"I do blame him," she spat. "If this is ANYONE'S fault, it's his. He let you get paired off with Snape, who hates you far too much to be a decent instructor. Dumbledore could have taught you Occlumency himself if it was this important – and mark my words, he knew that it was."

Harry shook his head and turned away. Hermione used the moment to whisper a near-silent "Ennervate" at Lucius. She waited until his grey eyes flickered open before following Harry.


	7. Chapter 7

**HOGWARTS, YEAR 6: FALL**

"I think Draco Malfoy has taken the Dark Mark," Harry said, as they rode through mile after mile of rugged moorland on their way to Hogwarts.

Ron snorted.

"But Harry – he's only 16, do you really think Voldemort would allow someone so young in his inner circle?" Hermione asked.

"It all makes sense!" Harry continued. "His father's in Azkaban, _and _he was acting strangely in Diagon Alley!"

"But we didn't actually see anything…" Ron started.

"We saw enough," Harry said.

"Well, if he is a Death Eater, it's not by choice," Hermione said.

"What are you on about?" Ron asked incredulously. "Of course it'd be by choice."

"No it wouldn't," Hermione insisted. "Look, I'm not denying that Malfoy is a git, but he isn't evil. If he has taken the Dark Mark it's because Voldemort is punishing his family for Lucius's failure to retrieve the prophecy." A twinge of guilt twisted in her stomach. _If only I had been able to stop Harry from going to the Ministry. _She sighed. "Look, I don't like the Malfoys, but quite honestly, they're the reason I'm still alive."

"Because Lucius saved you just before our First Year?" Ron grimaced. "I still think he was Imperiused or something. The Malfoys hate Muggleborns, always have. Goes back centuries, dad says."

"I don't know, Ron," Hermione sighed. "Like I said, I met them before First Year, maybe he just…"

"…took a liking to you, somehow," Harry finished. "It's strange," he mused, "but not impossible."

"Well, the Malfoys do admire intelligence and power," Ron said. "Lucius must have seen potential in you or something."

"Honestly, I think it was more that he didn't want to see a little girl kidnapped by a disgusting warlock," Hermione said. "Like I said, the Malfoys are bigoted Pureblood gits, but they aren't entirely evil."

"What about Riddle's diary though?" Ron demanded.

"Lucius didn't know what it was going to do," Hermione said. "I'm not excusing his behavior…" she added hastily.

Ron glared. "He knew it was full of Dark Magic, Hermione. That's why he got rid of it. Trying to discredit my dad, no less."

"I know Ron. He does deserve to be in Azkaban, but part of me wishes he wasn't condemned to such a terrible fate."

Ron grunted noncommittally. "Well, it's almost time to change into our robes," he said.

"I'll be right back," Harry said, slipping his Invisibility Cloak out of his trunk.

"Where are you going?" Ron and Hermione asked.

But he was already gone.

_**Later That Evening**_

"Will. You. Stop. _Eating,_" Hermione hissed at Ron. "Your friend is _missing._"

"Oy, calm down, will you?" Ron said. "He's right behind you!"

She turned and saw Harry walking between the tables, blood dripping from his nose. She grimaced.

Ginny leaned over. "He's covered in blood again," she whispered. "Why is it he's always covered in blood?"

"Harry! There you are. What in Merlin's name happened?"

"Malfoy," he spat angrily.

Hermione did a quick cleansing spell on his face, glaring at the Slytherin table. Malfoy was staring stonily back at her. _He does look different this year, _she decided. Harder somehow. Older. Darker.

But all of that could be attributed to the incarceration of his father. The Malfoys were an extremely close-knit family; it was no wonder he should be changed from such a loss.

She shuddered. If Malfoy really had taken the Dark Mark, she needed to stay far, far away from him.

_**Draco POV**_

Draco shoved his food around his plate while Dumbledore gave his customary beginning-of-the-year speech, one hand cradling his chin.

He hadn't even wanted to come back to school this year. He felt lost in every possible way. His father was in Azkaban. His mother was barely holding it together. Voldemort and the Death Eaters had all but moved into his ancestral home. And he himself was now a Death Eater. At first he'd felt a strange sort of pride: of all the Purebloods vying for a spot in the inner circle, he – 16-year-old Draco Malfoy – had been chosen. But then the Dark Lord had given him his task. _I have to murder Dumbledore_. By Salazar, he could barely look at the man, let alone contemplate killing him. His stomach turned. He gave a cursory glance around the Great Hall, feeling a wave of fury wash over him. _All these imbeciles eating and laughing. They have no idea what's coming. _How many of them would die at the hands of people to whom he was now eternally bound. The Dark Mark seemed to itch and burn under his robes, and he resisted the urge to rub at it.

His eyes fell once more on the Gryffindor table.

_Granger. _There was no doubt in his mind that she'd follow Potter straight into the fire when the war started in earnest. She was brilliant, but could she survive the concentrated hate and violence that was looming, as both a Mudblood _and_ Potter's best friend? His stomach turned with more urgency this time, and he knew he had to make it to a bathroom. He shoved his plate away and stalked out of the Great Hall, ignoring the curious stares of his housemates.

**LATE FALL**

Hermione studied Draco as he absentmindedly stirred his potion, noting the dark circles under his eyes and the way his robes were hanging off his frame. "He looks ill, doesn't he?" she whispered to Harry.

"Who?"

"Malfoy."

Harry looked up from the ingredients he was chopping. "Yeah, I guess he does. Being a Death Eater can't be great for your health."

She sighed. "You don't still think…"

"We've been over this Hermione," Harry said. "It's the only explanation."

"It's not the _only _explanation," she said.

"He hasn't been playing Quidditch either."

"He hasn't?" Hermione frowned.

"No, he hasn't," Harry said. "He loves Quidditch. If he isn't playing, it's because he has something more serious than games on his mind."

Hermione bit her lip as she dropped arrowroot in her cauldron, sneaking another covert glance at Malfoy. As though he felt it, Malfoy looked up, his tired eyes meeting hers in a flash of grey.

There was no smirk, no glare, no raised eyebrow of inquiry. Just a weariness laced with desperation that sent a ripple of pity through her.

She tore her eyes away and took a deep breath. _Not my problem. If he really is a Death Eater he's too far gone to help._

But she couldn't stop thinking about him. She found herself searching for him at mealtimes, more often than not finding him absent (and if he was there, staring at his food rather than eating it). He was painfully thin – almost gaunt; cheekbones stretched over sallow-looking skin.

She noticed Snape watching him as well, a worried look in his impenetrably dark eyes.

**WINTER**

She was doing rounds for Prefect duty when she saw a shadow slinking along a deserted corridor.

"Stop!" Hermione said.

The shadow sped up and Hermione whipped her wand out. "I said STOP, or I'll hex you."

"Easy, Granger," the figure said. He held his hands up and turned around slowly.

"Malfoy," Hermione said warily. "What are you doing out this late?"

"I'm a Prefect, Granger, not some errant Third Year."

"Could have fooled me," she said. "I know you've been passing off your Prefect duties to the Hufflepuffs."

"So? That Fletchley idiot loves it – gives his inflated head a reason to swell even more."

Hermione stepped closer to him. He looked absolutely exhausted. His hair hung lank around his hollow eyes.

"Merlin Malfoy," she breathed. "Have you slept _at all_ this year?" She eyed his too-thin frame. "Or eaten?"

"Careful. Someone might think you actually cared, Granger."

She sighed. "If you continue like this you'll literally starve yourself to death."

"It'd probably be for the best," he said softly.

Hermione gasped. "No it wouldn't! By the grace of Godric, don't _say _that. Don't even think it." Her expression changed from shocked to determined. "Come on," she said forcefully.

"I'm not your house elf."

"Come with me or I'll hex you."

A ghost of a smirk appeared on his face. "You wouldn't dare."

"Watch me," she glared.

He rolled his eyes. "Fine, Granger. You win. But only because I'm too tired to fight."

She grabbed his wrist. Surprisingly, he didn't pull away, instead allowing himself to be dragged through the darkened castle until Hermione came to a stop in front of a large painting of a bowl of fruit. She let go of his wrist and looked at him expectantly. Draco noticed a faint tingle where her fingers had touched his skin.

"Is this all, Granger? I have to say, still life has never really done it for me."

She snorted and reached out to tickle the pear. The painting swung open, and Draco stepped back in surprise.

She climbed through, beckoning for him to follow. "Come on."

He stepped into it and the portrait swung closed. Draco found himself surrounded by house elves.

"Miss Hermione!" Dobby squeaked. "It is great to be seeing you again!" his excited smile fell into a frown when he noticed Draco. "M-m-master Draco! What is YOU doing here?"

Malfoy eyed the elf distastefully. "I might ask you the same thing. You're _supposed _to be serving my family."

Dobby puffed out his small chest. "Not anymore, I is not. Dobby is a FREE ELF."

"Ok, ok," Hermione said. "Dobby, Malfoy and I are just here for some food. He skipped dinner, you see…" (_A few dinners, _she thought). "I promise he will be nothing but respectful," she said, giving Malfoy a fierce glare.

He snorted.

Hermione crossed her arms and glared even more fiercely.

"Fine," Malfoy spat.

Satisfied, she turned back around and eyed Dobby hopefully. "Please?"

"Ok. I makes food for Miss Hermione and her…friend."

"We are NOT friends," Malfoy said quickly.

"Then I makes food for Miss Hermione and her whiny not-friend."

Hermione broke into peals of laughter as Malfoy glared indignantly.

"Oh shove off, Granger," he said, pushing past her to flop on the couch by the roaring fireplace.

Fifteen minutes later they each held a steaming plate of steak and potatoes, served with warm bread and butter.

Draco ate like a man who hadn't seen food in years. She watched him shovel it in, surprised that he was even bothering with knife and fork. When his plate was halfway clean, he stopped, staring at the rest of his food dejectedly.

"What's wrong?" she asked, buttering a second piece of bread.

"I'm full."

"Oh," she said, nodding in understanding. "You've been eating so little the last few months that your stomach has shrunk. We'll take it to go, and I'll cast a warming charm so it'll be ready to eat when you're hungry again."

She pushed herself off the couch.

"Is Miss Hermione leaving?" Dobby asked, the other house elves gathering to see them off.

"We are. Thank you so much. It was absolutely delicious, as always."

The house elves beamed their delight.

Hermione elbowed Malfoy.

"Oh – yeah, it was – decent," he said. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "Thank you," he said stiffly, clearly not used to uttering those words to anyone, let alone house elves.

"Miss Granger is welcome anytime!" Dobby squeaked, waving goodbye as she and Malfoy slipped out of the portrait hole.

Malfoy gave a huge yawn as they wandered down the halls toward the dungeons.

"My former house elf is annoyingly fond of you," he said.

"Well, I don't treat him like a used rag," Hermione said, glaring at him. "You should try it sometime."

He snorted and yawned yet again.

"Promise me you'll sleep tonight?" she asked.

"Yes, Mother dearest," he smirked.

"I'm serious Malfoy. You're starting to look like an Inferi." She waved her wand over his plate, and it was instantly steaming.

"Ok, I'll leave you to it then," she said. "Goodnight. Whatever it is you're going through – just, let me know if I can help."

His eyes darkened. "I appreciate that Granger. More than you know," he said softly. "But I'm beyond help."

With that, he swept downstairs, swallowed by the dark of the dungeons before Hermione could say anything more.

**LATE WINTER**

"Malfoy did it."

"Harry…"

"I'm serious Hermione. Malfoy poisoned that mead, and he cursed Katie Bell."

She scoffed, her heart unwilling to believe that he was capable of such a thing. Her head did whisper that there was something very, very dark in him this year.

She pushed her food around her plate, no longer hungry. "I'm going to the library for a bit."

"Oy, you gonna finish that…?" Ron asked, nodding at her full plate.

"It's all yours," she said.

She was walking past Moaning Myrtle's bathroom when the door swung open and someone smacked into her. "Ow!" she yelped. "Malfoy?" she stared at him in shock. "What are you doing in the girls' loo?" Hermione took a closer look at him. His eyes were rimmed in red and his cheeks were wet.

"Have you – have you been _crying?" _

He swiped furiously at his face. "Of course not," he said. "I was just washing my face."

"You _have _been crying. There's nothing to be ashamed of. It's not like I'll tell anybody."

"You better not, Mudblood," he spat.

She recoiled. "You ARE a Death Eater, aren't you?" she said, looking him up and down disgustedly.

He stared at her in shock, his pale face going even whiter. "What did you – I am not. How – why would you…?"

"Come off it, Malfoy. You've been acting strange all year, and you twitch every time anyone so much as gets near your left arm. I didn't want to believe it, I really didn't."

She gazed at him sadly. "You nearly killed Ron and Katie."

Tears of shame and fury sprang to his eyes. "You think I _wanted _this Granger? That I want to hurt people? To be forever marked as a slave to a madman?" He pulled the left sleeve of his robe back, revealing the sinister black serpent writhing on the marble skin of his forearm. "He'll kill me! He'll kill my whole family. Tell me, what choice do I have?!"

Hermione stared at the Dark Mark in horrified fascination. As if from a great distance, she heard steps coming down the corridor. Then she yanked the sleeve down over his arm and pushed him back into the bathroom before half running to the library.

She was in the Gryffindor common room less than 30 minutes later, being unable to concentrate on her book after the disturbing scene with Malfoy. _He's a Death Eater. HE'S A DEATH EATER. _She was reeling. She tried to summon some feeling of hate toward him, but found that she couldn't. She felt only pity. And deep down, if she was really honest, she felt scared. _What if Voldemort kills him? _She figured that his task must be to kill Dumbledore, and there was just no way he would be able to follow through. He was not a murderer – that she knew with absolute certainty. She'd been acquainted with him for 6 years now. She knew his quirks, his weaknesses, his strengths. Sure, he was a bully, but Merlin, James Potter and Sirius Black had been far crueler to Snape than Malfoy had ever been to Harry, Ron or Hermione.

She paced the floor, her mind in turmoil. _Draco Malfoy is a Death Eater. _She longed to tell someone, but she knew that if word got out he'd either be tossed in Azkaban with his father, or killed by Voldemort. His mother would likely die either way.

The portrait hole opened, and Harry ran in, white as a sheet and completely drenched.

"Harry! What happened? Are you alright?" Hermione ran to him, alarmed by his shell-shocked expression.

"It's Malfoy."

Her heart stilled.

"What do you mean?"

Ron and Ginny joined them, and Harry told them about the curse in halting sentences, guilt lacing each word.

"I told you there was something wrong with that book," Hermione said flatly.

"You have to get rid of it, Harry," Ginny said softly, holding her hand out and leading him out of the portrait hole.

When they were gone Hermione turned and fled to her room, ignoring Ron's calls.

Alone, she punched the pillow, tears streaking her cheeks. _Why do I even care that he was hurt? _But she did. The very idea of Malfoy, shaking and bleeding out on the bathroom floor, sent her stomach into spasms of terror. She thanked Merlin for Snape and his healing spells, vowing to research them herself at the earliest opportunity. It seemed like a crucial gap in their education.

The next morning Hermione looked for Malfoy at the Slytherin table, but didn't see him. Nor was he in Advanced Potions. She knew he would probably need a few days to recover, but it didn't do anything to relieve her anxiety. When Defense Against the Dark Arts ended she approached Snape's desk cautiously.

"Sir?" she asked.

Snape glared at her. "What is it, Miss Granger?"

"I was just wondering if Malfoy was alright."

Snape tilted his head, regarding her curiously. "Not that it's any of your concern, but yes, he will make a full recovery."

She let out a breath. "Ok."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Are you quite finished? I have essays written by incompetent students to fail."

"Of course. Thank you Professor."

**SPRING**

"Granger."

Hermione looked up from her book to see Malfoy leaning over her, his grey eyes agonizingly bright. The circles under his eyes were even darker, and he swayed a little before gripping the back of the chair across from her to keep himself upright.

"Malfoy, sit down before you fall down."

"I don't have time. Listen, you need to stay in Gryffindor Tower tonight."

"What? But why…"

"JUST PROMISE ME!"

"Merlin, Malfoy, calm down! What's going on?" she started to feel panicky. She'd never seen him so out of control before. He seemed almost crazed.

"I can't tell you that Granger. Only that it's absolutely imperative that you don't leave your common room. Please." He was pleading now, begging her to understand. He saw that she was about to ask more questions. "Can you just – for one night – not need all the answers?" he asked desperately.

She sighed. "Ok Malfoy. I can't _promise _you that I'll stay in Gryffindor Tower all night, especially if one of my friends is in danger, but I can promise that I'll try."

Draco nodded. He hadn't expected anything more. He turned to go, but Hermione caught his sleeve.

"Draco." His eyes widened at the use of his first name. "Be careful."

He hesitated, then stepped closer to her and pressed a kiss to her cheek. His lips were cold and chapped, but they sent a jolt of heat straight through her.

_**Draco POV**_

Draco couldn't stop trembling. His wand was practically vibrating in his hand.

He tried to muster the strength to say those words: _Avada Kevadra, _but every time he got close Hermione's face swam before him, her eyes soft and dark, like molten chocolate. How could he ever meet her gaze again if he killed a man?

"Draco, Draco, you are not a killer," Dumbledore said.

"How do you know?" he flushed, realizing how childish he sounded. "I've done things that would shock you!"

"Like cursing Katie Bell and poisoning a bottle of mead that there was almost no chance I would drink? Forgive me, Draco, they were weak attempts – so weak, that I wonder whether your heart was really in them. There's another way, you know. You don't have to do this."

"I have no choice!" Draco said feverishly. "Don't you understand? I_ have_ to kill you. Or he's going to kill me. He'll kill my whole family!"

"Join me, and I'll be able to hide you and your parents completely," Dumbledore said. "Trust me, Draco. Once upon a time I knew a boy very like you, who made all the wrong choices."

Draco's wand shook harder. His eyes were wet and desperate. He thought of Hermione again, and started to lower his arm.

But there was a commotion, and Bellatrix Lestrange burst upon them, Death Eaters fanning out behind her.

"Well done, Draco," she hissed, surprised at finding Dumbledore weak and disarmed. "Now finish him!"

Sweat mingled with the tears that streaked his face as Draco lifted his arm yet again.

"He can't do it," Fenrir Greyback growled. "He doesn't have the stomach – just like his father."

"Fenrir," Dumbledore gasped. "I didn't know you were here tonight. I didn't think Draco would invite a creature like you to this castle, where his friends live…"

"I didn't!" Draco said hurriedly. "I didn't know he was going to be here!"

"Ah, but how could I resist such a – tasty – adventure?" He licked blood from his yellowed nails and Draco looked on in horror. "It was one of yours, by the way, Dumbledore. Tore clean through 'em."

Draco's heart dropped into his stomach. _No. _

"Who?!" he exclaimed, near frantic. "WHO WAS IT?!"

"Shhhh, Draco my dear," Bellatrix soothed. "He already said it was one of _Dumbledore's_. An Order member, no doubt. Worry not."

And then Snape arrived.

"Severus, please…" Dumbledore's face was pleading; body slumped in defeat.

A play of emotions crossed Snape's normally mask-like face. And then, with a twist of hatred, he struck: "AVADA KEVADRA."

Draco's eyes widened. He stood frozen to the spot where Dumbledore had fallen backwards over the railing until Snape grabbed his arm and shook him out of it. He followed him on autopilot, unable to stem the constant flow of tears. Images of Hermione, broken and bleeding, assailed him. _Please don't let it be her. Please. Please._ It was all he could do to stay by Snape's side and not go racing through the castle, screaming her name._ I have a role to play. My parent's lives depend on it. _He winced as Bellatrix flew like a tornado down the corridors, destroying paintings, suits of armor and windows as she went. Her cackling laughter would haunt him, he knew.

And then they were stumbling out onto the grounds. He heard Potter yelling for Snape, but didn't stop. He couldn't even if he wanted to – surrounded as he was by his fellow Death Eaters. _Fellow Death Eaters. _He was one of them now, for good. No longer a 16-year-old student straddling the line between good and evil. Forced or not, he had chosen a side. He glanced back at the castle to see the Dark Mark writhing above the Astronomy Tower and his gut wrenched. He had chosen evil.


	8. Chapter 8

**YEAR 7**

Hermione stood with her hair around her face, hoping against hope that the Malfoys wouldn't recognize them. The Stinging Hex had made short work of Harry's face, at least. Ron, too, was barely recognizable. Unfortunately, Hermione hadn't had time to transform her own looks. She risked a glance at Draco. His face was gaunt, the skin pale and wan, enhancing the dark shadows under his desperate grey eyes. He stared at her in rage and terror.

"Fenrir did well, did he not?" Bellatrix whispered delightfully, twirling a dirty black curl around the tip of her wand. She grabbed Harry's arm and dragged him before Draco. "Is it him? Is it?!"

Draco barely glanced at Harry.

"I don't know. No, I don't think so."

"But look, LOOK," Bellatrix said manically, gripping Draco's chin and forcing his head up. "That could be the scar! It's stretched – the result of a Stinging Hex, most likely – but even so. And if it is him, then that means this pretty little thing must be the Mudblood." She turned her crazed gaze on Hermione, who felt her stomach flutter, though she forced herself to meet Bellatrix's eyes with composure.

"Well Draco, is it her? Potter's little Mudblood bitch?"

"It's not her."

Bellatrix frowned. "You're sure?"

"Why wouldn't he be? He only went to school with her for 6 years." Lucius' voice was scathing.

Bellatrix huffed in exasperation.

"Throw them in the dungeon," Lucius said imperiously.

"Not this one," Bellatrix started, giving Hermione a feral onceover. "She may not be Granger, but her blood's nowhere near pure. Let's find out just how dirty it is."

"No," Narcissa said forcefully. "I don't want the screams of some worthless child haunting these halls. There are ghosts enough." Bellatrix looked as if she wanted to argue, but quailed under Narcissa's ice-blue gaze.

"Fine, but Cissy…"

"Oh, pour yourself another Firewhiskey and hold your tongue, Bella," Lucius spat. "This is still _Malfoy _Manor."

"Tell that to the Dark Lord," Bellatrix hissed, pointing her wand at Lucius.

"ENOUGH," Narcissa yelled. "Draco, take the prisoners..."

But Draco wasn't there. He'd grabbed Hermione and rushed her, Harry and Ron downstairs the moment his aunt's eyes were off her.

Hermione was practically stumbling as they ran along. _How big is this bloody place? _she thought, trying to ignore the intense stares of generations of Malfoys eyeing them curiously from gilded frames.

Finally, Draco stopped in front of what appeared to be a blank stone wall. A tap of his wand and the stones dissipated into a narrow staircase framed in darkness. Cold, dank-smelling air washed over them.

Draco didn't look at Hermione as he tugged her arm, prompting her to follow him into the abyss.

She was comforted by Harry's breath at her back, following as closely as he dared, Ron behind him. Harry gasped, and Hermione knew the Stinging Hex had worn off.

When they reached the base of the stairs torches illuminated a dungeon littered with manacles and ancient torture devices, empty save for a figure huddling pitifully against a slime-covered wall. Draco turned around then, eyes taking in the prisoners blankly.

"Potter," he said mildly.

"Malfoy," Harry replied.

"Let me guess…you or Weasley did something stupid and sent the Snatchers straight to your little hideout," he sneered.

Harry shifted uncomfortably.

"Go ahead, we all know you've got the Dark Mark, call your Master," Ron spat.

Malfoy's pale eyes raked over him, but he made no move to lift his sleeve.

"You two will be here," he shoved them into a spacious cell on his left.

"Granger." He pulled her toward the back.

"Hey, where are you taking her?" Ron called.

Malfoy didn't answer.

He stopped at a small cell hidden behind a large stone pillar, opening it with a wordless wave of his wand.

Hermione walked calmly inside. She turned back and caught his eyes, deep-set and haunted.

"I…"

"Save it, Granger," Malfoy sighed. Then he drew his sleeve back. For a moment Hermione thought he was going to press his wand to the Dark Mark, but then he drew it across his wrist. Blood sprang from the cut and dripped onto the stone floor.

Closing the door to her cell, he drew his bleeding wrist across the dwarf-forged steel, whispering spells until the metal grew red and hot.

With one last look, he left her, taking the dungeon stairs two at a time.

"Hermione! Hermione!"

"I'm here, guys, everything's fine," she called.

"What did Malfoy do?"

"He just blood warded the cell door, that's all."

"What?" Harry asked. "Why didn't he ward ours?"

"I don't know, Harry, it's not as though I asked him."

"That sneak!" Ron exclaimed. "It's because he thinks only Hermione is smart enough to break out of her cell."

"Makes sense," Harry said.

"Let's try and get a bit of rest, then we'll figure out a way to get out of here," Hermione said. She looked across at the figure curled up against the wall. "We should try and help that one too, if we can."

_**A FEW HOURS LATER**_

Hermione tried to sleep, but she was so cold. She could hear Harry and Ron's soft snores across the dungeon. Squeezing her eyes shut, she attempted to force her body to relax. _Nope. Not working. _Her whole body shivered. Suddenly, she was flooded with warmth. _What? How?_

"Granger."

"Malfoy!"

"Merlin, Granger, keep your voice down! Potty and the Weasel are trying to sleep."

She snorted. "How anyone can rest in this place is beyond me."

Sighing, Hermione stretched her limbs. "Although I could probably sleep now," she admitted. "Warming charm?"

He nodded.

"Thank you."

"I brought you some food," he said, sliding a tray filled with hot bread, cheese, meat, and fresh fruit through a slat at the base of the door.

"I didn't even hear you come in," she said.

"Slytherins excel at secrecy, Granger."

_True_.

"So, why did you ward my door?" she asked.

Draco looked surprised at the question.

"My aunt wants to torture you, Granger. And Fenrir wants…other things."

She shuddered.

"You weren't warding the cell to keep me from getting out. You were warding it to keep them from getting _in_."

Draco's eyes were smoky and impenetrable.

"My parents are working on a plan," he said shortly. "Your escape has to look spontaneous – it can't appear pre-meditated by us, or we'll all be dead."

"I know."

"Eat and get a few hours shut-eye."

"Ok," she said. "And Malfoy, thank you." Hermione's chocolate eyes swirled with emotion. "Torture is one thing, but Fenrir…I would rather die."

"I know," he whispered. "I won't let that happen, I promise."

A swirl of his black cloak and he was gone, just another shadow darkening the dungeon walls.

_**2:30 A.M. **_

"Miss Granger."

Hermione sprang up, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

"Mr. Malfoy, what time is it?"

"Late. Or early, depending on your point of view." Lucius gave a wan smile. "The Dark Lord arrives tomorrow morning. You and your friends must be gone."

"You'll…you'll let Harry go too?"

There was a long pause. Hermione studied the lank blonde hair, flowing in jagged layers over his shoulders. His grey eyes were sunken; a five-o-clock shadow clung to his sharp jawline.

"I have come to realize that the wizarding world cannot be ruled by the Dark Lord," Lucius said slowly. "If Potter is the key to defeating him, then I must do what it takes to keep the boy out of his clutches."

"And me?" Hermione asked.

He stared at her.

"I would have you survive this war," he admitted. "Do not ask me why. Perhaps it's because my son is fond of you. No need to blush like that, my dear. Narcissa and I have been aware of his feelings since the Quidditch World Cup."

He pulled out a flask and took a long pull.

"Narcissa discovered an unbroken link between house elves and their old Masters," Lucius said. "Dobby can't be commanded, but he can be called."

"Dobby?!" Hope unfurled in Hermione's breast.

Lucius nodded.

"As I'm sure you're aware, house elves are one of the very few creatures who are able to Apparate and Disapparate at will – regardless of wards or restrictions."

Hope unfurled in Hermione's chest.

"It's brilliant!"

"Malfoys usually are," Lucius said, haughtiness creeping into his voice.

Hermione laughed.

"What's so funny?" Lucius frowned.

"Nothing. It's just nice, listening to the sound of your old self."

"What do you mean?"

"You seemed so…defeated, when the Snatchers brought us in," Hermione explained. "I guess I prefer my Malfoys power-hungry and imperious."

Lucius' eyes flashed in amusement. "Mmmm. You are a strange one, Miss Granger."

"Takes one to know one, I suppose."

"Indeed," he said, turning to go. "Wake your friends, Miss Granger. Be ready."

"We will."

_**EARLY MORNING**_

Safe at Bill and Fleur's, Hermione cursed Bellatrix. She had derailed their escape plan after panicking over the discovery of Gryffindor's fake sword in Hermione's bag, killing Dobby and leaving them all emotionally scarred. Hermione especially. She was terrified for the Malfoys. Voldemort would learn that Harry had yet again escaped his clutches – and what then? Harry's scar was burning. He was angry. So angry. _Angry enough to kill an ancient Pureblooded family? _Her gut churned.

"Hermione, are you ok?"

Harry sat beside her on the porch swing, concern marked in his green eyes.

"I'm fine, Harry, just scared."

"The immediate danger has passed," he said.

"Has it?"

He pondered her words.

"I've been thinking. How did Dobby know we were there? It doesn't make sense."

"Some things aren't meant to be understood, Harry," Hermione said. "I guess that's why it's called Magick."

"You would tell me, if something was going on between you and Malfoy?" he asked.

She didn't answer. _I'm just so tired. _Tired of the secrets, tired of the lies. And while the Malfoys remained under Voldemort's thumb, she didn't have room in her soul to feel any emotion other than fear.

"I care about him, Harry," she said simply. Her eyes filled with tears. "I never meant to."

She looked down at her hands, nails bitten and ragged from worry.

Harry released a heavy breath. "In a strange way, it makes sense," he mused. "You and Ron never seemed on equal footing. Don't get me wrong, I still think Malfoy is the git to end all gits. But he's also incredibly clever, ambitious, talented – just like you."

Hermione gave him a watery smile. "You're not mad?"

"I'm not happy, but we have bigger problems to worry about than your tragic love story."

"The Horcruxes," she said.

He nodded.

"I've been thinking…" Hermione started. "Bellatrix wouldn't have gotten that upset if she didn't think we had been inside her Gringotts vault. What if_ that's_ where Hufflepuff's cup is?"

"I was thinking the same, but breaking into the most secure Wizarding bank in the world is more than risky," Harry said.

"True," she admitted. "But we have Griphook – and Bellatrix's wand. I also managed to get a strand of her hair when she tried to torture me."

"Ok," Harry said decisively. "Let's talk to Ron. But don't give too much away when we speak to Griphook. I don't trust that goblin. And Hermione…try not to worry about the Malfoys. If there's one thing that family is good at, it's using their power and cunning to survive against all odds."

She sighed. "Thank you, Harry. I hope you're right."

**YEAR 7 – After the Battle**

"_PUREBLOODS ON TRIAL!_" The headline screamed from the front page of the Daily Prophet. The Malfoy family stared out in black and white, looking exhausted but defiant. Hermione threw the newspaper down.

"Everything alright, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked. "You've hardly touched breakfast."

"Fine."

Harry gave her a penetrating look across the table. Tomorrow the Malfoys faced the Ministry courts. She knew how it would look: Lucius was a known Death Eater. Part of the original circle. Only this time he couldn't claim to be Imperiused. And Voldemort had actually been using Malfoy Manor as his home base during the war; never mind that it had been against the will of the actual owners of the estate. She rubbed her eyes.

"We'll do what we can, Hermione," Harry whispered once Molly left the room. "They can't very well ignore the testimony of The Golden Trio," he rolled his eyes. Hermione knew he hated that term as much as she did. _Still, if it proves useful I may not detest it quite as much, _she thought."Narcissa lied to Voldemort about my being alive," Harry continued. "And the Malfoys risked everything to help us escape their Manor. It should be enough."

Hermione chewed her lip.

"Maybe."

That night she tossed and turned, trying to dislodge the knot in her stomach. At around 5 a.m. a grey light crept through the curtains. She watched it resentfully. Throwing the covers off, she padded downstairs to make coffee. Curled in an armchair, she watched steam lift from the mug in exotic patterns and thought of Draco. Was he unable to sleep too?

She hadn't seen him since the Final Battle, when he had stopped Crabbe from killing her by blocking his curse. His parents had stayed out of the fighting as much as possible, choosing instead to cut through the chaos, searching desperately for their son. Lucius was malnourished and bloody, having been tortured and imprisoned in his own dungeons for displeasing Voldemort by allowing Harry, Ron and Hermione to escape.

When Harry and the Weasleys came downstairs hours later, she lied and said she had just woken up. Harry raised an eyebrow at her, taking in the dark circles under her eyes and empty coffee mug.

"You don't have to do this, you know," Arthur said. "The Malfoys are hardly innocent."

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Harry gave her a warning glance. "The Malfoys should have to pay reparations, but we don't think they should be thrown in Azkaban."

Ron snorted. "Speak for yourself, mate."

"Ronald Weasley!" Hermione spat. "They saved your life at Malfoy Manor, or did you forget?" _Not to mention the fact that our being there in the first place was YOUR fault, _she thought bitterly.

Ron looked taken aback, then mumbled "I s'pose so" and asked his mum if breakfast was ready.

"Give me a minute, you glutton," Molly mock-glared at her son.

"I'm going to shower and change," Hermione said.

"What about breakfast?" Ginny asked.

"I'm not hungry," she answered.

_**AT THE TRIAL IN THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC**_

The courtroom was packed with people. Hermione felt her anxiety levels rise as she looked around at the horde of witches and wizards, some furious, some gleeful – all of them out for blood. And for good reason. Death Eaters had terrorized the wizarding world for longer than Hermione had been alive, and now they were finally paying for it.

Hermione's heart sank further into her stomach. _These people don't want justice. They want vengeance._ Hermione wasn't even sure if testimonials from the legendary Golden Trio would be enough to save the Malfoys from their wrath.

"All rise!" a distinguished wizard announced as the judge entered, a stern-looking witch in rich black robes.

She took a moment to get situated, shuffling papers and whispering with her clerk. Hermione nearly jumped when the judge called, "Bring in the prisoners," and the Malfoys were escorted, weary and chained, onto the courtroom floor. Hisses and boos sounded from the courtroom audience. The jury sat silent, but some were openly glaring.

Hermione took a deep breath. Harry glanced at her and grabbed her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. _It'll be alright, _his eyes told her.

"Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, you face charges of aiding and abetting He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in his endeavors to slaughter Muggleborns and Pureblood dissenters, enslave Muggles, and subjugate the wizarding world. Lucius Malfoy and Draco Malfoy, you bear the Dark Mark of evil. As such, the court has reason to believe you are responsible for multiple murders."

"No!" Draco shouted. "We didn't kill anyone, I swear…"

"Silence, boy," the judge said sternly.

He hung his head, shoulders jutting from his back like broken wings.

Hermione felt her chest constrict.

"How do you plead?" the judge continued.

"I am guilty, your honor," Lucius said roughly. "But my wife and son were forced into this life entirely against their will. I bear full responsibility."

"Are you saying your son was Imperiused when he took the Dark Mark?" the judge enquired.

"No," Draco cut in. "I wasn't, but I had no choice!"

"Quiet," Lucius said sharply, glaring desperately at his son.

"Let the boy speak," the judge said, nodding at Draco. "What do you mean when you say you had no choice?"

Draco looked to his father, but Lucius merely sighed.

"The Dark Lord said he would kill my family if I didn't become a Death Eater," he said, voice thick with emotion. He swallowed twice before continuing. "You don't understand – you can't possibly know – he was not someone you simply say 'no' to."

"And yet, many witches and wizards did," the judge said coolly.

"And where are they now?!" Draco demanded. The crowd gasped.

Hermione closed her eyes. When she opened them again, the judge was eyeing Draco with calculated indifference.

"Would anyone like to testify on behalf of these Death Eaters?" she asked.

Hermione felt rage replace her anxiety. _She's dehumanizing them on purpose. _

"We would," she said forcefully, indicating Harry and Ron on either side of her.

The crowd gasped even more loudly, and now there was whispering all around; a buzzing chorus.

For once the judge appeared visibly shaken. It took her almost half a minute to compose herself enough to request that Harry, Ron and Hermione approach the bench.

"Do you subject yourselves to the tests necessary to ensure an accurate portrayal of the facts?" she asked.

"I do," Hermione said.

"I do," Harry said.

"I do," Ron said.

With that, the judge's assistant poured them each a tumbler of water spiked with Veritaserum and did a series of spells to ensure that none of them were under influence of an Imperius curse.

When the assistant was finished, he gave the judge a brief nod.

"Very well," she said reluctantly. "And just so we're clear – you're testifying in d_efense _of the Malfoys, correct?"

"Correct," Hermione said.

"Proceed," the judge requested. "For continuity's sake, start at the beginning."

Hermione took a deep breath, and then did as the judge said, telling the room about her very first meeting with the Malfoy family, explaining every last detail. Her confidence grew as she spoke. _This is just like any other assignment. _Be confident. Be thorough. Most importantly, be honest. She recounted every last detail, even the softening in Narcissa and Lucius's eyes after they saved her. And then more recently, when they not only discovered a way to help them escape Voldemort's clutches, but prevented her, Hermione, from being tortured by Bellatrix and raped by Fenrir Greyback.

Ron went next, with a rather weak testimony about his experience at Malfoy Manor.

Harry was last – the pinch hitter, the clutch.

He spoke about Narcissa's hand on his chest. The beat of his heart under her fingertips. The way her voice never wavered as she faced Voldemort and told him that Harry was dead. The Malfoys hadn't even fought in the Final Battle, motivated as they were to save their family, he continued. The Malfoys were prejudiced, power hungry, devious – but murderous? No.

Finally, Harry ended with a question: _What would you do, if you were in their place? If the most powerful wizard in the world had YOUR family trapped in his ruthless clutches?_

The courtroom was silent now. The energy was different, Hermione noticed. Thoughtful, less frenzied and furious. She dared to hope.

The judge cleared her throat, breaking the quietude. "Thank you. The court will take a short recess while we deliberate."

She disappeared behind a side door, followed by her assistant and members of the jury.

The Malfoys were led out as well.

The buzzing was back now, witches and wizards discussing the Golden Trio's testimony in rushed tones. Hermione's stomach was still in knots.

"Who's up for a butterbeer and some food?" Ron asked.

"What? Now?!" Hermione exclaimed.

His eyebrow shot up quizzically. "We've done our part," he said. "If the gits get sent to Azkaban it's not our fault, yeah?"

"We'll stay and see this through," Harry said forcefully.

Ron shrugged. "Easy mate, it was just a suggestion."

Hermione drew in a deep, stabilizing breath.

Time trickled by.

"Let's take a short walk," Harry whispered to her. Noting her alarmed look, he added: "Just to the corridor. They'll call us when they're done deliberating."

She nodded, somewhat reluctantly.

"Ron, want to…?"

But Ron was chatting to an admirer, a pretty young witch who appeared to be a few years younger than they were. _But everyone looks young to me these days. _The war had ravaged her. She found she could tell who had fought and who hadn't; who had lost and who had escaped with their family (and their youth) unscathed.

Out in the hall, Harry tried to console her. "We've done all we could, Hermione. They can't discount our testimony so easily. Like it or not, we saved the Wizarding World from certain destruction. Remember also that the Ministry is pressuring us to speak at their events and reassure the public that everything is now under control. It would be in their best interest to stay on our good side."

Hermione cracked a tiny smile. "We do make very dangerous enemies."

Harry's green eyes glinted like chips of emeralds. "That we do."

The judge's assistant popped his head out of the courtroom door. "If you please Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, join us."

To Hermione's surprise, they weren't led back to their seats, but to the deliberation room now occupied by the judge and her panel of jurors.

"Please sit," the judge said. "This is unconventional, to be sure," she admitted, "but then, so was your testimony. I don't think any of us were expecting You-Know-Who's fiercest opponents to advocate on behalf of his Death Eaters."

"_Reluctant _Death Eaters," Hermione said.

"Hmmm," the judge mused. "Be that as it may, Lucius Malfoy has been a loyal supporter of the Pureblood cause from the start. That can't be overlooked. Many of the jury are inclined to see him receive the Dementor's Kiss for his crimes."

Hermione's heart stilled.

"They are willing to let Draco Malfoy and his mother live under house arrest for the remainder of their lives, under strict Ministry supervision, of course."

"You call that justice?!" Hermione exploded. The jurors looked at her in alarm. "Did you even listen to a word that was said in that courtroom?"

"Miss Granger…"

"Don't 'Miss Granger' me," Hermione spat. "I swear to Merlin, if you and this jury don't come to a more merciful conclusion, I will bring the full force of my intelligence against you and use it to crush this entire Ministry into dust."

The witches and wizards of the jury looked even more scared now, and even the judge's eyes were wide behind her glasses.

"Are you—are you—threatening us?" the judge asked.

"Oh no," Hermione said coolly, throwing her shoulders back and tossing her wild hair behind her shoulder. "I'm promising you."

Hermione felt Harry at her shoulder.

"The house arrest idea isn't a bad one," he said. "For Lucius and Narcissa…and only for a probationary period of time. I suggest no more than three years. The whole family—even Lucius, I believe—has seen the error of their ways. Preventing a group of people with as much wizarding history and magical ability as the Malfoys from ever being able to rejoin society is detrimental not only to them, but to all of us. Surely you must see that. Lucius Malfoy practically funded the Ministry for years."

Hermione took a breath and forced herself to speak with her usual calm rationality. "And just think of the overarching benefits," she began. "We could rebrand this new world as one of unity. Purebloods and Muggleborns, learning to forgive and coexist together. After all, everyone here has made mistakes, have we not?" Hermione looked around the room purposefully. "Some of you were on the panel as Umbridge accused decent Muggleborns of stealing magic. You sat silent as she broke their wands and exiled them from our world," she said bitterly. The jurors shifted uncomfortably in their seats. "Many of you left England, taking refuge until the storm blew over and hoping that others would clean up the mess. Do you feel you deserve redemption?"

"I had to leave to protect my family!" a wizard exclaimed.

"The Malfoys had to protect their family, too," Hermione replied. "Only they didn't have the option of leaving."

"She's right," Harry said. "No one who ever defected from Voldemort's inner circle lived to tell the tale."

Silence fell around the table. Finally, the judge sighed and stood. "Very well. The council will consider your words and dispense the sentences accordingly."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "So Lucius won't be receiving the Dementor's Kiss, and Draco can try and resume a normal life."

The jurors looked at one another as the judge sighed. "We will convene a little while longer, but yes, I expect that will be the outcome of this trial."

Harry and Hermione turned to go.

"Oh and Mr. Potter—I noticed you haven't accepted the Ministry's invitation to speak at the Victory Ball."

Hermione fought an eye roll.

"I suppose I could put in an appearance," Harry said.

The judge nodded. "Very well. Please take your seats in the courtroom. We'll resume in a moment."

_**VERDICT**_

"Lucius, Narcissa and Draco Malfoy, approach the bench," the judge said. Her face gave nothing away as they shuffled forward, moving awkwardly in the heavy chains. As tall as they were, the Malfoys looked small beneath the enormity of the raised judge's bench and her council members. Hermione's stomach twitched. She leaned forward as the judge opened her mouth to cast down her decision.

"The jury has deliberated, and after much consideration, the court has reached a conclusion," she said. "I was fully prepared to sentence both Lucius and Draco to the Dementor's Kiss, with a lifetime Azkaban sentence for Narcissa."

"You might as well rip my soul from me too!" Narcissa yelled. Lucius wrapped his arms around her to keep her from surging forward.

The judge held up a hand. "If I may continue," she said mildly. "I said I _was _prepared. Given the – enlightening – testimony from Mr. Potter, Ms. Granger, and Mr. Weasley, the court has determined a different sentence. This world has been torn to pieces by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Family members, friends, colleagues have been pitted against each other. It is time for the bloodshed to end. It is time for the hatred between Purebloods and Muggleborns to end. I think that today we have an opportunity to work toward a more united, peaceful future. That being said, the Malfoys shall hear their fate: Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, your wand will be confiscated and you will serve three years of house arrest, confined solely to Malfoy Manor and the grounds therein, upon which (should you exhibit proper behavior) you will be allowed to re-enter Wizarding society." There was a gasp around the room, and immediately everyone began talking at once.

"BUT HE'S A DEATH EATER!" one man shouted.

"HE KILLED MY FAMILY!" another yelled.

"I killed NO ONE!" Lucius swiveled around, raising his voice above the din to defend himself.

"It doesn't matter, he's still a Death Eater!" an elderly witch accused.

The judge banged her gavel until sparks flew from it.

"ENOUGH!" she said. "I will do the judging here. I understand that tensions are running high. We have ALL suffered in this war, and we all want to see justice served. Be that as it may, justice takes many forms. The Malfoys, we believe, have seen the error of their ways. Lucius was tortured and imprisoned in his own home. Draco was only a boy when he took the Dark Mark, under penalty of death. These are the facts, and this court must account for them. You have heard the testimony of Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ronald Weasley, who saved our world from utter destruction by the very evil we have accused the Malfoys of aligning with. If they can find it in their hearts to forgive this family, I truly believe that anyone can." She paused to let the gravity of her words sink in. A placated silence fell over the room. "If I may continue; Narcissa Black Malfoy, I sentence you to one year of house arrest, at the end of which your wand will be returned to you." Narcissa nodded and wiped away grateful tears. "Draco Lucius Malfoy…" Hermione held her breath. "…I hereby sentence you to Hogwarts house arrest. You will finish your 7th year of school under strict supervision by Headmistress Minerva McGonagall." Hermione fought the urge to scream in joy. Instead, she whispered "thank you thank you thank you thank you" under her breath until she gasped for air.

Down before the bench, Narcissa was hugging her son to her, sobbing into his chest as he patted her back. Lucius stood stock-still, apparently in shock at the outcome.

_STAY TUNED FOR ONE MORE CHAPTER…thanks for reading, friends!_


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